BN2: The Cold Light Of Day
by LizD
Summary: COMPLETE ... Sequel to BETTER NEVER THAN BAD... some explicit language … Adult situations. A little serious fun with Harm and Mac.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Cold Light Of Day**

Chapter One

By: LizD

Spoilers: Mid-Season 8

Notes: This is the sequel to **_Better Never, Than Bad_** story (by request from a couple of reviewers – I got inspired). s/b humorous with lots of **sexual situations (mature readers only). **I was aiming for funny but I think I only hit droll. You tell me.

Written: Summer 2006

**Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.**

The cold light of day filtered through the windows as Mac woke. There was a little blue jay tapping on the window as if to wake her. Her first thought: _My windows face west … the sun rises in the east … so how could the dawn …? _ Then she heard it. The shower. _Who was in the shower?_ She opened her eyes wider. It was not her bed. It was not her bedroom. It probably wasn't her shower. So where---. She sat bolt up in bed ... HIS bed. Harm's bed.

"Oh shit," were the first words out of her mouth. Then panic sent in.

What in the HELL were they thinking? She remembered EXACTLY what happened – in minute detail – but what were they thinking?

Atonement. Reparation. Redemption.

The first time sucked so bad they needed a second chance to make amends … to set the record straight … to redeem themselves – as it were.

Yes, it was redemptive sex – that was all. They still hadn't declared love of any kind. It wasn't like they were going to finally try a "relationship" (whatever that meant). They just needed to prove something to themselves and to each other. They had to prove that they could be GOOD … good together … to save face. They had to – justifiably - in order to save the working relationship. It was impossible to imagine the caustic, rude and back-biting remarks (as evidenced by that scene with Turner and his client the day before) that would go on if they had left each other with the impression that the first time was as good as it got. But it didn't mean anything more than that.

The second time did what it was supposed to do. Amends and atonement were made. Egos were redeemed.

If Harm were any other man, Mac would definitely have wanted to see him again. But he wasn't and she was – like it or not. She was going to see him again - DAILY. Worse than SEE him, she had to work with him. How ironic the very thing that was to save their working relationship might just as easily kill it. Harm had always been impossible before – snarky, petty, jealous, haughty, arrogant, superior all in that I-know-you way. He was beyond intolerable the day prior. What possible hope did she have now that he had … not to put too fine a point on it … that he had seen her naked - twice?

_He did a hell of a lot more than SEE_, she reminded herself. _But I did too_.

That thought was new. She had just as much new information about him as he had about her. He wouldn't use what he knew in fear that she would use what she knew. It was a stalemate. Maybe it was a good thing – this first and second time – maybe they could get past everything else and drop all the pettiness and the fight for the top. Maybe all of that was due to the fact that they never did it and now that they had it would fade away. It was an itch that was seven years waiting to get scratched and since it had been, they could start focusing on what was really important.

_Or did we just make matters worse?_ She asked herself. She shook it away.

The important questions now were: Did they need to talk about it? How would they keep it a secret from co-workers? Would it be written all over their faces? What did it mean to their "friendship", which had been tenuous at best recently? How would they work together? Could everything go back to the way it was before? Should it? In the end all that mattered was that they had their careers to think about and one night – well two nights of sex – good, bad or indifferent … for the record, it was good, better than good … it was great … it was actually better than great … but not great enough to throw away nearly 20 years of hard work.

_Harm had to agree_, she thought. _He wouldn't out us_. She took it for granted that it would not happen again. It was not going to become a habit or a regular thing. Then it occurred to her, He might think that. Why wouldn't he? She looked toward the shower – she panicked.

She got up, dressed and tried to think rationally, tried to think what he was thinking. Fact: He was in the shower. Fact: He got up without waking her … to shower. That meant he didn't expect there to be morning sex (the first man she slept with that didn't want morning sex – usually the best part). She tried not to take that as an insult.

Back to the shower. He was showering to … to get ready for work. It was 0538; he didn't need to be there until 0900 and he normally took a run in the AM – not that she would KNOW what his NORMAL routine was in the morning and definitely not the morning after a night of great sex.

She winced. She needed to stop thinking about the quality and deal with the fact. A fleeting thought crossed her mind: _Did he think it was great?_ She shook it off.

Back to the shower: He was … showering … cleaning … washing to … to … to … wash her off? Wash IT off. Ridding him self of … whatever … just ridding him self. He was getting back to normal. Again she tried not to take THAT as an insult. She chose to take it as a sign that he felt the same way she did. They both needed to forget that it ever happened and move on. 'Good, they finally agreed on something.' It was a one-time (two-time) event … never to happen again. She needed to get out of there. She needed to avoid the uncomfortable morning-after discussion. She had her hand on the door.

"Mac?" his voice stopped her. "Where are you going?"

She couldn't read the tone. Was he angry, amused or just plain confused? 'Oh God,' she thought, 'what do I say?'

"Mac?" he asked again.

"I need to go," she stated simply. "You need to get ready for work." The fact that he was still dripping from the shower AND the towel was hung a little too lowly on his hips did not escape her notice. She now had a much better appreciation for his hips … hips and lips … lips and his hips. She looked away. "And so do I … need to get ready for work."

He stepped toward her. "Are you ok?" he asked. What he was really asking was not clear.

"Fine," she stated glancing at him. "Everything is fine … was fine … is fine. I'm fine," she looked away. "I need to go."

"FINE?" he asked almost as if he had been slapped.

"I need to go."

"Fine!" he gruffed. "Everything was FINE?" It was damn near Olympic GOLD … and she says FINE?

"Yes … I'm sorry … I have a 0800 that I can't be late for," she reached for the door but felt she needed to say something. "Thanks," she said.

"Thanks?" he was aghast.

"Thanks for … thank you … I mean …" she was tripping over every word. "I had a nice time," she couldn't believe she said that and there was no way to recover. She slipped from the room and bolted down the stairs.

X X X X X X X X

"Fine?" Harm repeated. "Nice?" he echoed. "Nice? Fine?" His ire was up. "She had a 'nice time'," he laughed. "Everything is fine," he stated again. "Four times in one night … six for you, lady!" He stated loudly to the empty room, "I defy anyone … anyone my age to do that – with a bad back too boot," he snorted. "Fine," he threw his hands in the air. "She is un-pleaseable … I knew it."

He needed a run. He was going to skip his run that morning in lieu of making her breakfast in bed (which he needed to go out and shop for) and the customary after-breakfast sex (usually the best part) but that was moot given the 'nice' and 'fine' developments and her rapid departure as if the house were on fire. "Fine," he stated as he pulled on his sneakers. "Fine ... great … no, not great … FINE … NICE," he was disgusted.

X X X X X X X X

They didn't see each other until an afternoon briefing with the Admiral; she was late. It was just the two of them and the Admiral in his office. Harm was already there when she entered. He and the Admiral had clearly been in private conversation. They were jovial and smiling. BOYS! They both shut up when she entered and shared a look. She never felt more naked, more exposed in her life. She hoped she wasn't blushing. _He told him_ was the thought she forced away.

"Thank you for joining us," the admiral said.

Was that a glint in his eye? Was he looking at her differently? She tried to ignore it.

"Lt. Rocko Meyers …You're to defend. Rabb here will prosecute."

"Yes sir."

"Lt. Meyers is accused of appearing in this," he handed her a DVD on the cover where three scantily clad women (in a version of sailor uniforms) and a man. She had to assume it was Lt. Rocko Meyers. It can be granted that he was – shall we say – out of uniform as well. The title on the DVD was "Making Waves".

Mac looked back up at the admiral.

"It's pornography, Colonel," he stated as if that were news. "If it will offend you I can assign Turner or Roberts."

"No Sir," she defended herself not wanting any special treatment for being female. "I'm fine sir."

Harm snorted at her use of FINE.

"Commander?" the admiral asked.

"It would be FINE with me if the colonel would rather prosecute," he stated.

"That is very nice of you, commander," the admiral stated.

Harm snorted again hoping the admiral wouldn't see.

"The assignments stay as they are," he announced. "Dismissed."

X X X X X X X X

"Commander," she caught him before he got on the elevator.

"Colonel," he drawled back at her.

"What did you say to the admiral?"

The elevator arrived and Harm got in. "Everything is FINE, Colonel."

She stopped the elevator from closing. "Harm?"

"We had a NICE chat … you're sorry you missed it … got my ass handed to me … seems Turner didn't feel that everything was FINE between us and wanted to file a grievance."

"Turner?" she looked over her shoulder.

Harm grabbed her hand from the elevator door and it sent a bolt through the both of them. She snapped her attention back and pulled her hand away quickly. "Everything is FINE now, Colonel," he gave her a wry smile. "Have a NICE day."

The doors closed. "This is worse – way worse," she mumbled to herself. Rabb with a bruised ego was way worse. She needed to clarify a few things without causing any more damage.

X X X X X X X X

"Have you had a chance to review the evidence?" Harm demanded from her doorway just before the close of day.

"I have," she sat up in her chair.

"Fine, let's make a deal," he stretched his shoulders out still working out the kinks in his back.

"No deal commander."

"Oh?"

"No …my client is innocent."

"Innocent?" he asked. "No one is innocent."

"He is NOT GUILTY," she corrected. "At least not of making that … video."

"And you are basing this on …"

"The evidence."

Harm smirked. "So you watched the video."

"I saw enough."

"Enough?" he grinned. "Pick up any pointers?"

"Have you?"

"Have I what? Seen the video or picked up any pointers?"

"Either … both."

"Right!" He stepped into her office and lowered his voice. "I'll study it like a primer for next time."

She shook her head implying there would be no next time. "Based on that video it is IMPOSSIBLE that my client was the man filmed."

"So what are you thinking … stud double?"

"Very funny," she smirked. "From what I saw, and what I know … it was not my client."

"What you KNOW? So from your YEARS of experience you KNOW – without a doubt - that no man … no Naval Officer … could possibly satisfy three women at the same time – or one woman six times."

She steeled her spine. "That is a pretty big leap in logic there commander – and kind of a sad commentary on your entire gender – at least the men of the Navy."

"You would have no problem believing it about Marines however."

"The content of the video is unimportant."

"Unimportant? … Have you actually had experience with what satisfies women … any woman … you for example … you're a woman?"

"My past experiences – good or bad – have no bearing in this case."

"Answer the question, Colonel."

"I am not on trial here commander."

"Answer the question," he demanded.

"I have," she reluctantly gave up the intel.

"Have what? Been satisfied? Or has it always been NICE and FINE for you?" he pushed harder. "Would you know SATISFACTION if it came up and bit you in the ---."

"Facts not in evidence AS YET." She tried to get back to the case. "I have facts that are not in evidence as yet … about -."

"What more will it take, colonel?" he pressed pretty much ignoring what she was saying and the case. "Would you know what 'evidence' is when you see it … feel it … taste it?"

"Rabb!" she cut him off.

He looked away and took a deep breath before he lodged he second assault. "I suppose he too is a NICE guy and you had a FINE discussion with him," he goaded. "Or was it more than a discussion?"

"You're embarrassing yourself, Harm," she stated.

"Who is to know … you taking an ad out in the Navy times?"

"Drop it Harm."

"Not until I get what I am looking for."

"Absolution? Atonement? Redemption?" she smiled. "Or do you just want your ego stroked?"

"How about the truth," he narrowed his eyes. "And a little unfettered honesty. We both know --"

"Truth? Honesty?" she cut him off again. "The honest truth is that this case will be thrown out before a membership board is empanelled," she was serious.

"You know this how?"

"The evidence," she repeated.

"We are back to that, are we?"

She was no longer amused by his little tirade. "I know that Lt. Rocko Myers was not the man in that video."

"His … his … TALENT didn't look the same on film? I suppose you did a line up. Maybe a reenactment."

"No."

"And you can tell one from another … I mean all men don't look a like when it comes to –"

"Harm!"

"Men are all alike, right? Fine … Nice!"

"Spiteful is not a good color on you – never has been." She shook her head. "And so unnecessary," she was really annoyed but there was a part of her that felt she deserved it for skating out on him that morning.

"Unnecessary?"

She took pity on him and told him what she had. "The man in the video was circumcised, Lt Meyers was not."

Harm was stumped. "Testimony, hearsay or …"

"I have a doctor's note," she explained quickly.

"You actually watched the video?" Harm accused as if that would help him win points.

"Enough to know what I needed to know."

The wind was completely taken out of his sails as pertains the case and she had given him nothing about the other thing. He was done. "I'll make the necessary recommendation to the convening authority."

"Thank you."

There was nothing left for Harm to say. "Fine," he turned to leave.

"Great," she corrected.

He turned back to her to see if she meant something else.

She nodded.

"Great?" he asked.

She nodded with a very slight smile on her face. "Great."

He grinned and mumbled under his breath, "NICE" in that way that boys do.

"Great," she corrected again.

"Great, huh?"

"Yes," she leaned back in her chair and put her hand to her throat. It was a defensive action; she had no idea what it was doing to him. "Too bad."

"Too bad?" he was concentrating on her neck and wishing she would just undo the top button.

"Never again," she said with a tinge of sadness.

He looked back up at her eyes. "No?"

"No," she dropped her hand. "So we are agreed."

"Agreed," he reluctantly said. He had been thinking about ways to improve since that morning, but apparently he didn't need them. He was 'great.'

"Good," she stated.

"Great?" he asked her again.

"Really great," she corrected.

He was redeemed and his ego was stroked. He smiled and shrugged. "Too bad," he turned and left with a little more spring to his step.

"Yeah," she said after he left. She looked down on her desk to where the "Making Waves" DVD was. She picked it up and dropped it in to her briefcase and closed it quickly. "Too bad."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: **Cold Light Of Day**

Chapter Two

By: LizD

Spoilers: Mid-Season 8

Notes: This is the sequel to **_Better Never, Than Late_** story (by request from a couple of reviewers – I got inspired). s/b humorous with lots of **sexual situations.**

Written: Summer 2006

**Disclaimers:**** No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.**

Chapter Two

The cold light of day woke him in her bed. She stirred in her sleep and he pulled her close. "We have to stop meeting like this," she whispered in his ear.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harm walked into the briefing late.

"Nice of you to join us Commander," the admiral quipped.

Harm was as cryptic as possible. "Sorry sir." He made eye contact with no one. "Car trouble."

"Isn't that a new car?" he pressed.

"No sir," Harm was confused as to why the admiral was continuing the line of questioning. "Not new … just new to me."

"Oh right … body work."

Mac choked on her coffee.

"Excuse me?" Harm asked hoping to take the attention off of Mac.

"The accident you had the other day … the one that messed up your back … said you needed to get some body work done."

"Right," Harm looked down. "I meant for MY back, not the car," he corrected.

"Back's are tricky things … never know when they might start acting up again."

"I am fine, sir," Harm wanted the attention off himself. He took his seat next to Mac. He was probably the only one to notice that she had changed her shampoo and that her hair was still wet. He was also the only one who knew that she was wearing her silk navy blue high cut bikini panties and matching bra that closed in the front. He tried not to let that distract him from the meeting, tried and was failing.

"Fine … fine … in the future see that you handle your private business on your own time and that you get to work on time."

"Yes sir," he stated emphatically. "Never again."

"Never say 'never' commander," the admiral smiled. "However, maybe the colonel can help you with that."

"Sir?" Harm did not look at Mac.

"She rarely seems to have a problem with coming on time."

"Yes, sir," he stole a glance at Mac who blushed slightly.

"OK ... back to business …"

X X X X X X X

When he was back in his office – pretending to look over his case files – he let his mind wander over the morning.

His first thought was that she suffered from insomnia – that was what she had told him on a number of occasions - and was surprised that she was still sleeping. Twice – that he knew of – she slept harder than he did, and he had always considered himself a good sleeper. He pondered the plan of getting up and getting out while the getting was good, but changed his mind. Clearly they both had desire and to try to ignore what had happened and what was probably going to happen again was just not reasonable.

"We have to stop meeting like this," she whispered in his ear.

"Do we?"

She leaned back into him, "we do."

"How do you propose we stop?" he rested his lips on her shoulder and pulled her closer.

"It will be difficult to discuss in this position," she tucked the sheet up to cover her before rolling over to face him.

"Should I go?" he asked.

"Do you want to?"

"No," he pushed her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Should I get dressed?"

"Do you want to?"

He licked his lips and smiled letting her know that the answer to that was a 'no'.

Mac put her fingers up to his mouth. "In all the years I have known you … I've never really … appreciated …" she laughed. "Your mouth."

He laughed too.

"Could be because of all the crap that was falling out of it," she admitted. "But it's really … very sexy," she kissed him.

He trailed the kiss down her neck. "For me it's this," he told her.

"My neck?" she giggled.

"Neck … throat … I shouldn't tell you this … but it's very distracting."

"Distracting?"

"Particularly when you stroke it in that way you do," he sighed. "Maybe it's because it's the only thing truly visible when you're in uniform … but yeah … it's very distracting."

She kissed him again … hence the reason he was late for work.

X X X X X X X

"Car trouble?" she queried from the doorway.

"Had too far to drive this morning," he answered.

"Should have gotten up earlier," she stated.

"It wasn't the getting up, it was the getting out of bed that was the trouble."

"Ah yes," she needed to get back to her reason for being there. "Lunch?"

"Lunch?" he asked back hoping that it was a euphemism for something else.

"The meal between breakfast and dinner."

"I didn't get breakfast this morning," he smiled slyly.

"I am a little hungry too," she admitted.

"What are you thinking?"

"The park," she clearly had a plan.

"The park?" It occurred to Harm that her plan was not his.

She held up a bag from some sandwich shop down the street. "We need to talk," she stated.

"Oh … a talking lunch," he stood up and grabbed his cover. It wasn't going to be a good lunch … a great lunch … hell it probably wasn't going to be nice or fine one either.

X X X X X X X

It had been about a week to ten days since they had cryptically agreed to 'not let it happen again.' They didn't speak of it, they didn't allude to the new intelligence that they had. Occasionally they would catch the other staring at them from across the room with an enigmatic smile, but nothing overt. On more than one occasion they found themselves driving in or around the other's neighborhood, but made no attempt to make the call.

They were given a case to work on together. It was a murder investigation. There would be a lot of late nights and a good bit of traveling together. The principles in the case were stationed in Norfolk. Mac reluctantly agreed to a working dinner and thought that if she could control the situation it wouldn't get out of control. She told Harm to pick up Chinese and meet her at her apartment. That was around 1500.

Around 1630 they were sitting in the conference room with Bud and some new JG discussing another case. Harm and Mac were across the table from each other. Something caught Harm's eye. Mac's necklace had slipped out of her collar and was swinging freely. Absentmindedly Mac started dragging the pendent across the chain and putting it in her mouth. Harm was completely mesmerized. The JG had to call his name four or five times before he was able to draw his attention away. They were all looking at him.

"Commander?" Bud asked. "Are you all right?"

Harm stood up quickly and grabbed the files he was working with. "Sorry … just thinking … I have something I need to check out," he stated. "I'll catch up with you later."

Harm left to go home. He needed to prepare himself for that evening with Mac. So he did what any man would do faced with the prospect of being in close quarters with a desirable woman who he was not permitted to touch. He ran. He took his second five-mile run for the day and stretched it to eight miles … he made record time too. Then he took a shower … a long … long … cold shower. He found the tightest jeans he could find and the biggest over-shirt he had in his closet. It was all he could do – for the moment. He would take another "cold shower" when he got home.

X X X X X X X

The work part was fine. They ate and worked at the table. If Mac were trying she could not have dressed more enticingly. She really wasn't trying to and Harm couldn't expect that she would have worn a turtleneck or a scarf. She had a Marine t-shirt and fatigues on – both as loose as she owned. She really wasn't trying to entice him.

He was very uncomfortable. His jeans were cutting in all the wrong places. He ate too much on purpose. But she kept rubbing her neck – how could she possibly know what that was doing to him? He got up to clean up. She offered to help and was met with a sharp "No, I got it," the last thing they needed was for the two of them to be moving around in close quarters, that was how this latest mess got started.

She was still working at the table when he was finished cleaning up and still rubbing her neck. It was getting late and he really needed to go. The thing was, it was not THAT late and they had more work to do. He stood behind her for a moment and struggled with a desire. He lost the battle.

"Here," he pushed her hands away. "Let me," he placed his hands on her neck and started rubbing.

She stiffened at his first touch but it felt so good she had to ease back into it. What started as a muscle massage; was edging toward something else. Mac felt herself losing her resolve. She stopped the massage. "Thank you … much better … but we need to get back to work," she stated.

Harm sat down with great discomfort. He was chewing on a chopstick to ease his frustration. It was distracting for Mac. She kept catching the movement of his mouth and lips and tongue out of the corner of her eye. She could still feel his warm hands on her shoulders. She was about to do something that she would regret. She had to put a stop to it.

"I think we should call it a night," she stated. "Hit it hard again tomorrow."

It was hard for Harm to know if he was disappointed or relieved. "Right," he quickly gathered the folders he was working on.

She followed him to the door and there was an immediate uneasiness. She had no idea how to send him home. Did she look in his eyes and say 'good night'? Did she make a joke about the case? Make a comment about how he would sleep that night? Shake hands? Stand back and let him fumble with the door? She was totally confused.

Harm too had a similar confusion.

Instead, without thinking, they nervously laughed and he leaned down and gave her a chaste kiss. It was comfortable; it was right; it was natural. It surprised them both. He stepped out the door and she watched him walk down the hall. She watched as he rang for the elevator and waited for it to arrive. He turned back to look at her. No expression could be read. Their eyes locked. Seconds passed very slowly. Without letting his eyes rove passed her face he took every bit of her image in. She did the same. Tension was building. It was building past the point of tolerance. Images were forming in their minds of past events and future fantasies. Still the elevator didn't arrive. A slight smile edged on to her face matched by his at the end of the hall.

D*I*N*G

Like a shot they were in each other's arms – the elevator forgotten – lips seeking lips, hands groping. He pushed and she pulled him back into the apartment slamming the door behind them.

X X X X X X X

"What are we going to do?" she asked after they had eaten lunch and got some work business out of the way.

Harm stretched out on the grass. "It's bigger than both of us Mac."

"Don't flatter yourself," she stated.

He laughed. "It's hard to give up something that you find so … enjoyable."

"And are good at," she added.

"You are not helping your case, Colonel."

"One of us should ask for reassignment," she stated even though she knew it was a stupid idea.

"I just got back," he smiled.

"You expect me to leave?" she was appalled.

"You are the one that suggested it."

She shook her head. "Neither one of us has to leave … and I refuse to believe that this is _**bigger than the both**_ _**of us**_."

"I never suggested that it was TOO big," he stuck another chip into his mouth. "Or that it couldn't be given up, if necessary."

"So you would have no problem if we just went on as before."

"Before when?"

"Before a week and a half ago," she clarified annoyed that she had to.

"I might have an issue with that," he said.

"But …"

"You were mean to me," he asserted.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"You were not very nice to me before."

"How can you say that?" she slammed back at him. "You were impossible; petty, nasty, baiting, down right RUDE at times."

"That was before."

She was frustrated. "Before when?"

"Before I knew ... you know … knew what it was like … knew that you were attracted to me," he smiled.

"WHAT?"

"When I thought you were with Webb," he corrected, but what he really meant was what he said. He was petty before because he thought she didn't want him. He had that misconception corrected for him – and how.

"Ya know Harm, that was always your problem … you never stop to find out the facts before you BARREL ahead and form an opinion – AND ACT ON THAT OPINION."

"So now I have the facts," he grinned. "And they are more than I could have hoped for."

She shook her head. "We can't do it again … if we get caught one of us will be reassigned," she ran her hands through her hair. "Or both of us."

"There is no RULE against it," he asserted.

"Harm … please … we could barely maintain a professional relationship when we hated each other --."

"You hated me?" he was hurt.

"No," she relented quickly. "But I was VERY ANGRY with you."

"You seem to have gotten over it … at least you did last night."

"YOU SEE!" She stood up. "That is EXACTLY what I am talking about. This just isn't going to work."

"Yes it will," he said calmly motioning for her to sit down.

She did.

He calmly continued. "We can go back to being friends … like you want … like we were before."

"Before? Before WHEN?" she asked.

"Before Webb, before Paraguay, before Singer and before Brumby."

"Didn't we try this once before?" she wasn't convinced.

"I think – in light of recent events – I think we can make it this time."

"No rude comments … no off color remarks … you can stop yourself from saying things to me – in public and private – that … that … that …"

"Prove that I have seen you naked?" he helped – not.

"Like that?" she stated. "You can't say stuff like that?"

"I know. And I can stop," he grinned. "Can you?"

"Yes," she stated emphatically.

"Ok."

"Ok," she affirmed. "What if we find ourselves in a situation like we did last night?

"Together?" he slurred. "Alone?" he cooed. "Just the two of us and a case load of files? With no place to be and no one to report to for 12 hours and a bed just a room away. " His voice was low and slick.

"Harm!"

"Exactly … what would be the HARM if we did … on occasion? … No one needs to know."

"NO."

"No?"

"It would get confusing … we would make mistakes … we would slip up and get caught … no … we can't."

"And you can go just cold turkey like that and never look back?"

She laughed. "I am not ADDICTED, Harm," she shook her head. "It was only twice."

"Three times … but I guess we shouldn't count the first time."

"The POINT is … I can put it behind me … can you?"

He scanned her up and down lustily lingering on her 'behind' for a little too long.

"Harm."

He smiled. "If that is what you want … yes, I can agree," there was something a little to easy about his concurrence. "And I won't make any off-color remarks."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Ok."

"Good," he got up. "We are agreed – AGAIN," he dusted himself off and straightened his tie. "Thanks for lunch and for setting the record straight," he strode away leaving her to clean up.

_Damn but he has a great ass._ She thought.

X X X X X X X

Harm had been home all night working. He and Mac had shared a few phone calls about the case – all very professional. He was beginning to believe that she had meant what she said at lunch. At the time he believed it was only a matter of time. He was confident that she would cave before he would. So he was in no hurry and could give her as much time as she needed. But in the several conversations they had that afternoon and in the course of the evening, a thought crossed his mind that maybe she wasn't fooling herself. Maybe she could actually walk away. That maybe he/they were not the irresistible. He had to believe that he could get her to change her mind, but it was too soon to try, too soon to bring out the big guns and it was WAY too soon to give up entirely.

It was after 0100 when his doorbell rang. He was still up. He had hopes that his caller was who he thought it was but it was probably too soon for that too.

He opened the door. There Mac stood looking slightly embarrassed and DEAD SEXY in an open collared shirt and camisole that she had chosen just for him.

He stepped back.

"You were expecting me?"

"I wouldn't say expecting, but you have to know that I was hoping."

"Shut up," she said as stepped up and kissed him.

He slammed the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: **Cold Light Of Day**

Chapter Three

By: LizD

Spoilers: Mid-Season 8

Notes: This is the sequel to **_Better Never, Than Late_** story (by request from a couple of reviewers – I got inspired). s/b humorous with lots of **sexual situations.**

Written: Summer 2006

**Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.**

Chapter Three

The sun was just breaking through her window as Mac woke. She felt Harm get out of bed. She dreaded his morning routine and cursed herself for not being able to sleep through it. The water noises alone were enough to drive her up the wall. Mac was not a morning person. She could get up and go to work and get things done all before the before crack of dawn without ever setting an alarm, needing a wake up call or resenting the hour, but she seemed to do it all with very little noise.

Harm's water noise was the worst. He was like a fire hose, Niagra Falls and the washing machine all at once. It was the same thing every morning, the same order, the same duration … everything was the same. It made her nuts. Not that she was counting but it was the 18th time in five weeks that she had to suffer through the routine: pee (1.45 min), wash hands (.5 min), brush (3 min), shave (8.5 min), shower (12.5), clean sink (1 min) – one towel, neatly folded. At first it was interesting, then it was amusing, then she teased him about it. After five weeks it was just down right annoying. If only she hadn't noticed.

Worse than all that water noise she could not abide the singing. It actually wasn't singing PERSE it was a combination (an annoying combination) of singing, humming and whistling – usually a tune that she could not determine. For the last five or six mornings it had been the same song; some candy-ass, bubble gum, English, teenie bopper, love song that he repeated OVER AND OVER AND OVER with a really wretched English accent.

"_How do you do what you do to me? _

… _hmmm mmm hmm mmm _

_mm m mmmm how you do it to me _

… _I'd do it to you … hmmm mmm hmm mmm _

… _I'm feeling blue … hmmm mmm hmm mmm _

_But I haven't a clue …" _

Then there would be long sections of whistling before he would repeat. She had to bite her pillow – literally BITE HER PILLOW – not to scream. Each night she vowed to be the first one up, but somehow he always beat her to the bathroom.

There were a lot of things that were annoying her recently. One thing that she kept forcing herself not to discuss with him was the care in which he took making sure he didn't leave anything behind in her apartment nor she in his. It was bordering on RUDE. At first she accepted it; he didn't want to 'get caught' (that was one thing she stressed in the beginning) but then she started to feel cheap and sleazy. She was not the OTHER woman; nor did she have to hide the affair from another lover. There was no reason she should feel that way. What would be the big deal if she left a toothbrush at his place or maybe a change of clothes? Hell, why did the condom wrappers have to be 'packed in and packed out'? She defied the combined teams from CSI Vegas, Miami and New York to find evidence that he was there. NCIS? Forget about it, they could find the hole in the donut.

The sex was good … consistently good – and satisfying … more than - consistently. Actually - if truth were told - it was fan-damn-tastic and not just because of the dry spell they had been living in for the past few years. However it was a far cry from love making, it was down, dirty raw sex. The 'fight for the top' took a whole new meaning with some pretty interesting results. The first couple of weeks it was enticing, erotic and even a little naughty. There was nothing consistent about when, where or how they would hook up. Sometimes she would 'make the call' and sometimes he would. Once it was after a day in court when they took bloody chunks out of the other and other was a day that they shared less than three sentences. One time on their way back from Norfolk after working a particularly brutal murder case, they checked into a hotel (three hours of amazing intensity). Another encounter was in the stock room at McMurphy's - tawdry and sordid but very erotic (if not physically satisfying) and something that neither one thought they were capable of. Coates very nearly caught them. Luckily Harm danced his way out of it by pretending to have had too much to drink and Mac escaped without notice.

That was in the beginning when it was still new and they were taking a few more chances, discovering, exploring, pushing their boundaries. Nothing like that was going on any more. It started to feel predictable, expected and stale. In fact the encounters were becoming fewer and farther between and sadly that was OK with her.

Mac was forced to accept that they were becoming – had become - fuck buddies (pardon the French). They were no longer friends, colleagues, or even adversaries. They barely acknowledged each other at work any more. That was by Mac's request and design. They had agreed to limit communication so that nothing was revealed to their coworkers. As typical with Harm and Mac, they took it too far and way to literally. They didn't talk about the weather or politics any more.

So they worked together and they DID IT. She couldn't call them lovers because there was never any talk of love or any of the other trappings that go along with people having an affair (i.e. love notes, romantic dinners with dancing, flowers, strawberries and cream in bed, weekend get aways, long walks on a deserted beach, etc, etc, etc). They rarely ate together, never ran together. If there were a social function, they would show up separately and not engage with each other much during the event.

Finally, the sex was reserved for the post-midnight/pre-dawn hours and rarely on a weekend. So, they were fuck buddies – and that was all. Mac had no idea how things got to the state they were in. She had to believe they got there together – but she was sure it wasn't her fault.

That morning she couldn't help but wonder when and how this THING would play itself out. Not that that would have been the end of the world by any means. The hooking up was bound to happen – it was a foregone conclusion that they would find themselves making the beast with two backs. The 'breaking up' was just as predictable. Unfortunately they had probably – no they did wait to long to go down that road. They had skirted around all the relationship stuff for so long that it had just become distasteful and a real relationship was not even reasonable to expect. The only thing left to do was get it over with – do the nasty – and move the hell on. Once would have been enough – except that it sucked so badly. A second time to prove that the first time was a fluke. A third time for the whole two out of three decision making theory. And that would – should have been enough. It was five weeks later … it was time to move on. But who should make the first (or last) move and what move should that be?

If she really wanted to be hard on herself she would say that she never RUSHED into bed with Harm before because she thought she would never be able to get rid of him. Once he had had a taste of what she was serving he would have been like white on rice. She had only known – in the biblical sense – a handful of men in her life. Each one she had suspected would dump her butt as soon as a new piece of tail swished by – of course they would eventually come back for more – and they did, if they were still alive. For some unknown reason (call it her female intuition or that ESP thing she had when it was convenient or was needed as a plot device) she felt that Harm would not: not dump her, not die, not leave. Like gum on the bottom of her shoe, she would never be able to shake him off. Then it would come down to: how to dump him? She knew that he would always want a place in her bed. She also knew – and would be hard pressed to admit it out loud – she would always let him have that place. In a weird way, that comforted her and made her sad at the same time.

That morning – she wanted it to end but she couldn't 'break up' with him. It had to be something that he came to naturally – on his own. He had to think it was his idea. If he thought it was hers, he would revert to his petty, mean and nasty self to the nth degree. She sure as hell didn't want to go back to that kind of relationship. So she had to let it play itself out. That was going to be the hard part and getting through the mornings would be the WORST.

X X X X X X

Harm lay awake thinking in the dark. It was well after midnight and if she were going to come, she would be there any moment. The last time was days ago at her apartment. She was odd and distant that morning, but after five weeks it was hard to tell when her cycle was. Anything could have set her off. So he decided to give her some space. She would be the one to reconnect, she always did. And that night alone in the dark, he knew she would come. She always came. She was the one that could not hold out. He could go four, five or even six days …but he never had to because she always came to him. Harm had known some women in his life (more so from his younger days …but he could still turn heads) and he knew how to leave a woman satisfied yet wanting more. It was a source of pride with him that he never left a woman … unfulfilled … he usually tried to 'fulfill' them several times a night. It was never a 'wham-bam-thank you ma'am-goodnight' event. He was NEVER the first one asleep and always the first one up. That kind of pressure even imposed on himself was draining. A person can't consistently perform at that level without some prep and recover time; he needed to be in the right headspace

That night, he wasn't sure his head was in the right place. Don't misunderstand … he liked the sex and could always get up for it. He was grateful that he never 'saw her naked' in his mind when they were in court … but on more than a few mornings when he woke up alone, her nakedness was the first image he focused on; undoubtedly not the first man to do so. But there was something missing. Something big and he was beginning to be afraid that the end was near, and he didn't know how or if he should try to stop it.

He enjoyed sex with Mac – very much. She would often take the lead, take control, be the one in charge – or so he let her believe. After several weeks all it was, was sex. He had thought with Mac it might have been more – not so much. There was some weirdness thinking about her as his 'friend Mac', his 'colleague' Colonel MacKenzie and then thinking about her body in ways that men think about women's bodies who have a staple through their abdomen and bunny ears on their head. Something had to go – and because of the rules agreed upon, the friendship was completely taken out of the equation. He didn't want to believe that what had finally killed the friendship was the sex. How backward was that? Or was that normal? Did people really like each other less after they crossed that line? Was the 'friendship' just a cover for the unresolved sexual tension? Could men and women actually be friends? Once it was resolved was there nothing left say? And once the sex was taken out of it, what was left?

The problem with that theory was that he was still attracted to her and he still really liked her – admired her, respected her even when she was riding him like a rodeo queen. When they were in court her demeanor and the way she presented her case mesmerized him and it didn't matter what side he was on. He would listen to her talk to clients, fellow JAG-mates or witnesses and she was remarkable – riveting to watch even if he wasn't actually looking at her. He had actually stored up some pretty wild fantasies that he would have killed to realize; however given the parameters those were impossible to act on or discuss.

What he missed the most was kissing. He couldn't really remember when it stopped, but they stopped kissing - really kissing. He could have spent all night just kissing her – not really, but he liked to imagine that he would (one of his fantasies was making out in the back of a theater – a double feature). He knew he should talk to her about it (not the fantasy, but the kissing), but she had made it pretty clear that there was nothing else for them. They either had this bit or nothing at all. He had no hope that they could go back to being friends. Anything more was KIBOSHED by career aspirations and the fact that neither of them wanted to leave JAG.

So he had to ask himself, was it worth it? At that moment, in the dark, anticipating and fearing her knock on the door … he had to think it wasn't.

Shortly after 0100 the knock came on his door.

He didn't move.

It came again.

Again he did not move and held his breath.

It was the first time since they started, that someone didn't answer the door.

She knocked one more time.

He stayed put.

He heard her on the stairs. He tried to feel badly about it (at least about sending her home at such a late hour – that had to be an ego hit); he thought about calling her, running after her or driving over to her place, instead he took a 'cold shower' … a long cold shower and resigned himself to the fact that he had just put the first nail in their coffin. Someone had to.

X X X X X X

It was an ego hit for Mac. It was also the only nail she needed to seal the coffin.

X X X X X X

It was a week before they saw each other again. He had been sent to the Seahawk to do an investigation. When he arrived back at JAG it was early afternoon. The bullpen was nearly empty. Most everyone was in court.

He went to the break room to get some much needed coffee and literally slammed into her.

"Hey," he said once he steadied them both and recovered from the bolt of desire that coursed through him. He hadn't realized how much he had missed her.

"Hey," she responded. Mac had also felt her body betray her resolve. "How did it go?" she couldn't help but look at his mouth. She was trying not to look into his eyes; she didn't want to give away anything that she was feeling. And his nose was just too close to his mouth. Damn he licked his lips.

"Fine … good … everything went well."

"So the Petty Officer was guilty," she stated. "You lost the case."

"Justice was served Mac," he reached around her to get his coffee. "I believe I was able to keep the situation in perspective," he smiled. "Didn't allow a railroad job on a kid who screwed up."

"Right, right … I guess I am always surprised when you lose a case … you usually find some way to --- I don't know --- pull a rabbit out of your hat and convince the members that the guilt should be shared and they go easy on your client."

"What makes you think I didn't do that this time?" he stuck the stir stick in his mouth.

"Nothing … I don't know … never mind," she started to move around him. There was an ache in her body that she was finding it hard to control.

"How are things here?" he asked not wanting to end the tête-à-tête.

"Fine … everything is fine," she looked up at him. "Getting a lot of sleep."

"Are you?" he wasn't sure if she was happy about that fact or not. All he really knew was that he wanted to kiss her … he wanted to kiss her A LOT.

He was just about to lose his battle and lean down and claim his desire, when Turner walked in. "Rabb!" he barked.

"Turner … what's up?" he snapped back.

"So you are on for tonight, right?" Turner asked.

"Tonight?" Harm had no idea what Sturgis was talking about. He was still too focused on Mac.

"Tonight … dinner … drinks … dancing … with Varese's friend … Tessa."

Harm shook his head.

"We talked about this … the e-mail … I told you she was Varese's friend from college, she was moving to DC … come on man!"

"Right," Harm remembered something about making a commitment to a double date or something with Turner. "Does it have to be tonight?" he stole a glance at Mac who was only staying there to witness the exchange because both Turner and Harm were in her way.

"Don't break this date Rabb," Turner warned.

"Fine," he said.

That was when Mac made her move. She slipped out between them.

Behind her she heard: _"You are picking her up at 7 and the reservations are at 7:30 at Black's Bar and Kitchen. Don't miss the oyster bar."_

"_I thought I was meeting you there," Harm protested._

"_Varese got a gig," Turner stated easily. "It will just be the two of you. Don't want to be a third wheel."_

Mac slipped into her office and closed the door. She didn't notice that Harm was seeking her out but got caught by the admiral before he had a chance to get to her office. She also didn't notice the look exchanged between Turner and Harriet. If she had, she would have suspected something was up.

X X X X X X

Mac sat with William Makepeace Baltimore (his friends called him Lord) at a little bistro in Georgetown. He was a DC police detective that she had met a week or so ago when she was investigating a case. He was her age, handsome, funny, kind, polite and a very good conversationalist. He was also an ex-marine and a semi-pro kick boxer. He didn't drink, smoke or bite his nails. He had never been married but wasn't against the idea, he hadn't found the right woman. He was at a point in his life where dating and serial monogamy were becoming distasteful. He was looking to settle down, start a family – make a commitment. He was quite literally the man Mac had been looking for.

Mac had learned all of that over dinner just that night. He had asked her for a date when the case was over, but she had turned him down. For some reason he was coming back to JAG often after the case was over. He said that Harriet had more paper work for him. Anyway, he asked her two more times before she finally accepted. That was the day that Harm returned from the Seahawk.

Mac had been a little distracted through dinner and it did not go unnoticed. She forced her self to accept his invitation for coffee and dessert. She would have preferred to have gone home and waited up.

She looked out the window of the bistro and saw Harm and his date strolling toward the door. The woman was tall, blonde and very well endowed. She had her arm though Harm's and was leaning in laughing at something. Harm seemed amused. They entered and asked for a table.

With a quick turn of the head Harm and Mac's eyes locked. There was no way to get out of the situation. The hostess was walking them right by the table.

"Hi," Harm said quietly to her.

"Hi," she responded.

They both realized at the same time that they were with other people and that explanations and introductions were in order. It wasn't either Harm or Mac but it was decided that the four should have coffee and dessert together.

An amazing amount of small talk ensued. Tessa was an artist and graphic designer. She loved to fly and was looking forward to moving to DC. She was born and raised in California, but felt that the east coast was a better fit for her. Being an artist she admired and respected the discipline it takes to be in the military (though she herself would not have made a good soldier, sailor or marine), and while her politics were not the same as the current administration and she wasn't for the war, she knew enough to know that she didn't have all the information and trusted that responsible decisions were being made by the people she elected. She was very engaging and was as interested in Lord and Mac as she was in Harm.

The conversation soon turned to relationships and dating.

Lord started by saying that he didn't feel that dating was the best way to get to know someone. "On a date you are always on your best behavior," he laughed. "How can anyone get to know anyone else if they are always putting on a Sunday face?"

"How do you suggest that people get to know each other?" Tessa asked a little suggestively.

"I think working together is the best way to get a real feel for the other person," he submitted. "You get to see someone at their best, at their worst, you know their work habits and if you don't like them, nothing is lost."

"How do work habits let you know about whether or not someone is a good match?"

"How they treat their coworkers or the people they meet and how they handle the responsibility of the job are both indications on how they will be in a relationship," he laughed. "I am talking about a committed relationship, not just some affair where the parties are only interested in one thing."

Tessa laughed too. "And that one thing would be?" she goaded him.

"Sex," Lord said easily.

"You think sex is bad for a relationship?" she pushed. "Or unimportant?"

He smiled. "I didn't say that at all … I like sex," he blushed a little and glanced toward Mac. "But great sex is not all it takes for a relationship …it has to have love and honor and ---."

"Respect," Harm added.

"Exactly … respect." Lord finished. "If you don't respect your partner – be she a lover or a wife – there is nothing for it."

Harm posed a question. "Don't you think working with your lover or your wife can lead to complications both professional and personal?"

"I think that depends on the couple, the nature of the relationship and the profession," he equivocated.

Harm hated debating with people who wouldn't take a side.

Mac spoke up. "What if you have all those things … honor, respect and sex … and yet there is still no relationship – or not one to speak of?"

"What do you mean by 'no relationship'?" Lord asked.

Before Mac could answer Tessa asked, "Is there a desire for a relationship?"

"Maybe," Mac answered cryptically and then shrugged. "Maybe not … probably not."

"You didn't mention love, Mac," Lord pressed.

"Love is a nebulous thing," she explained. "It ebbs and flows. You can both love and hate someone at the same time. But there is no way you can respect and disrespect someone at the same time."

"I can't agree with that," Harm stated under his breath but Mac heard him.

"It's a matter of degrees and timing," Lord supposed ignoring Harm's comment. "Maybe the love, honor and respect are more on one side than the other as any given point in time."

"So after if it has been years of this ebbing and flowing," he stole a glace at Mac. "You would have to believe that the 'relationship' is doomed," Harm submitted.

"I wouldn't say doomed … I would say … and I know this is cliché … but a relationship of any kind is a two way street and the parties involved need to be traveling the same speed."

Harm laughed. "Very cliché … but what if only one of the parties has set the speed… to extend your metaphor. What if changing speeds is required to push the relationship along and switching gears - if you will - is not an option? Should one other party just pull over and stop? Or should he keep going hoping that it will change? Or should he risk forcing the speed to change; taking the risk of crashing into a brick wall?"

Both Tessa and Lord shared a look. Tessa answered. "Are you speaking from experience?"

"Just supposing," he said quickly making sure not to look at Mac.

"The real issue is …" Mac stated. "Not the speed, but the direction. Maybe the relationship is as a result of a head on collision … on your two way street? And is the best that can be hoped for are that the airbags deployed and everyone got out alive?"

Tessa laughed nervously. "We have beaten this metaphor to death."

"Anyone for more speed?" the waitress laughed nervously when she was met with four blank stares. "It's what we call coffee here."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: **Cold Light Of Day**

Chapter Four

By: LizD

Spoilers: Mid-Season 8

Notes: This is the sequel to **_Better Never, Than Late_** story (by request from a couple of reviewers – I got inspired). s/b humorous with lots of **sexual situations.**

Written: Summer 2006

**Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.**

Chapter Four

It wasn't the sun that woke Mac; it him getting out of bed. She rolled over and groaned. The morning routine had started – sans singing – but it was hours away from dawn. Her groan was not from the water noise it was from the fact that she was a little sore. They had been a little rough with each other that night/morning. Not really rough, more like desperate, ravenous, insatiable – regardless it was one hell of a work out and she probably had a few new bruises. She didn't want to see the damage they had done to her living room.

She arrived home after her date with Lord and accidently running into Harm and what's-her-name and in less than five minutes there was a knock on the door. She worried that it was Lord coming back for something – like the kiss goodnight she had denied him. She wasn't in the mood. She needed to change and head over to Harm's to get there before he got home.

When she opened the door Harm didn't wait for the customary 'step back' granting him access to her and her bed. Instead he reached out, took a hold of the back of her head and pulled her into a searing, sizzling, knee-weakening kiss that didn't end until oxygen became an issue – or lack there of. To call it a 'kiss' was like saying that Beethoven's Fifth was a 'catchy tune': angels gasped, sang, wept and danced on pin heads; the earth didn't move out of its orbit, but there was a definite VERTIGO effect. With no fight from her, he pushed her back into the apartment, slammed her up against the door and kissed her again. Clearly he had needs. Clearly he had no worries that Little Lord Baltimore might be at her place. Clearly he was convinced that she had the same needs he did. He was not wrong. But that was hours ago …

Mac heard the water shut off and then silence. The routine had stopped – no shower, no shave, she wasn't even sure if he had brushed his teeth. She looked toward the bathroom; Harm stood in the doorway in boxers and holding a t-shirt.

"So … you think we are a head on collision, huh?" his tone was cold.

She couldn't help but notice the bite mark on his shoulder. She flashed on the moment of the infliction; she couldn't remember ever being driven to that kind of voraciousness by anyone ever in her life – even when she was drinking. Maybe it wasn't him, maybe it wasn't her … maybe it was THEM. She rolled away from him and groaned her embarrassment.

"Did the air bags deploy or were both drivers killed on impact?" he was clearly annoyed and a session of blistering, physical, hardcore sex hadn't chilled his mood any.

"Can you wait until I am dressed before we have this debate?" she pleaded.

"Forget it Mac," he pulled his t-shirt on and went to the living room in search of his pants.

She rolled over and heard him dressing in the other room. She dug around in the blankets on the floor by the bed and found her bathrobe and followed him to the living room.

It was a total wreck: vases knocked over, pictures overturned, furniture pushed around. Clothes were everywhere. It looked like a cyclone had hit it.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Home … work …" he stated as he picked through the debris looking for what was his. "I have a court date at 0900 … in fact … so do you," he nodded. "See ya in court, Mac," he headed toward the door.

"That's it?" she was floored.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked. "We're done."

"You get to make that call?" she said indignantly.

"You have made all the others," he glared at her. "Yes … I get this one for myself."

"I don't accept that," she stated in her best command voice.

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn," he opened the door, strode down the hall and didn't look back.

Mac crossed to the door and noticed that his watch was under the chair and his wallet had fallen out of his coat by the door. 'He'll be back,' she thought. Then she thought better of it. She tossed them near her briefcase so she would not forget them when she went to work. She would return them and that would be that. She got what she had wanted: an end to the … THING.

X X X X X X X X

Mac entered the court just as Harm was sitting down with his client, Lt. Love. She walked up to her table and unloaded her brief case. One of the items she left on the table was a small brown paper bag with the top rolled down on it self. Harm didn't acknowledge her in anyway.

The judge walked in. All parties stood. Harm could barely wait for the judge to bang the gavel.

"Your honor … this case was brought to you prematurely," he stated.

"Excuse me," the judge leaned back. "Are you asking for a continuance?"

"In a manner of speaking, I believe that if the prosecuting council would make her self available this matter could be settled out of court."

The judge looked at Mac. "Colonel?"

"This is news to me, your honor," she stood up. "This court date has been set for a week now."

"Yet I got the case last night," he still had not looked at her. "I just returned from the Seahawk from a week long TDY to discover this case on my docket."

"You had more than 18 hours, commander."

"The colonel was unavailable (as usual), sir," Harm accused.

"There was no attempted made to connect with me," she defended a little too ardently. "None, not at all."

The judge was not about to deal with their petty squabble. "Are you expecting to plead this case out, commander?" the judge asked.

"No, I believe that the colonel will drop all charges."

"You believe that do you?" Mac looked over at him shocked by his ballsiness.

"I think we better continue on as planned, commander," the judge stated.

"Yes sir, may I confer with my client for a moment?" Harm looked over at his client and nodded.

The client was shaking his head emphatically 'no.'

Harm leaned down to whisper. The client continued to shake his head, until he pulled away and looked at him and said "No."

"Sounds like you need a new strategy, commander," Mac said snidely.

Harm shot her a look quickly and then spoke to his client again. "When facing a no win situation, you have two choices: give up or fight with everything you have."

"We know which one you will choose," she mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.

"NO, commander," the client stood up. "If you pursue this, I will be forced to get another lawyer and bring you up on charges … sir."

That got Mac's attention. She wondered if she should have granted Harm's request to speak with her.

"You could change your plea to guilty and we could end this right now," Harm shot back at him.

"I can't go to jail, sir," he sat back down.

Harm shook his head. "You are making this very difficult Lieutenant Love."

The lieutenant nodded. "And I would like to get out with my pay and benefits."

"How about a million dollars and a pony?" he said snidely.

"Commander … any time soon?" the judge asked.

"Yes sir. " Harm looked frustrated. "I am sorry, your honor. Let's proceed."

The members were brought in and Mac read the list of charges against Lieutenant Robert Love. There were only three: several counts of UA, insubordination to a superior commissioned officer, missing a movement."

Mac called her first witness: Commander Janet Leonardo.

Lt Love made a point of not looking at her. Harm noticed.

Leonardo took the oath and her seat and never once looked at the defendant. Mac did a pretty dry questioning session. Harm noticed that she was not 100% and was moving rather slowly and cautiously. He secretly hoped that it was because of him, because of their "collision" the night prior. He wanted her to think about him even if it were only to curse his name. God knows he had a kink in his back that he was sure the chiropractor would claim to be un-repairable.

It was Harm's turn to do the cross. Again Lt. Love whispered something to him before he could stand up. Harm nodded.

"Commander Leonardo … what are your thoughts on the forced retention policy?"

Mac objected, the judge objected and the commander was visibly unnerved.

"If it pleases your honor, I think this has merit in this case."

The judge reluctantly allowed him to continue.

"So … commander … forced retention?"

She steeled her spine. "We are a country at war, commander," she shifted uncomfortably. "We need to maintain a qualified military force to protect our country, our people and to defend the American way of life."

"Do you believe that Lt. Love qualifies at 'qualified'?"

"Yes I do."

"In spite of the fact that on several occasions he was UA, insubordinate and missed the movement of an aircraft carrier?"

"Yes I do."

"So you want him to get a slap on the wrist, pay some fines – maybe even a reduction in rank – "

"Objection," Mac shouted. " … leading the witness."

Harm continued unchecked. "… but eventually he should go back to work … back under your command."

"Objection sustained," he looked at Harm sternly. "Rephrase, commander."

"What do you feel the appropriate punishment for Lt. Love's indiscretion should be?"

"You honor," Mac stated again. "Indiscretion?"

"I'll allow it," the judge ruled though he was not pleased. "Answer the question."

"That is not my call, commander," she replied cryptically.

"Should he be allowed to stay in the Navy?"

"That is what this trial will determine."

"But you have no opinion."

"I believe that Lt. Love is a qualified officer and a valuable asset."

"You would not refuse Love … if he were to come back … " Harm allowed her to get uncomfortable. " … to your unit."

"If those were his orders, no."

"Would it surprise you to learn that if Lt. Love were found guilty, he would undoubtedly do jail time, and then be dishonorably discharged?"

She was clearly unaware of that. "Again, Commander, I am not the one who makes the rules."

"Yet you were the one to file the charges."

"It was my duty," she defended.

"YOUR HONOR," Mac leaped in. "The commander is not on trial here – Love is."

"Funny you should say that, Colonel," Harm glared at her.

She ignored him. "What she did or did not know, what she would or would not do is not at issue. And her opinions are not up for discussion."

"Have to agree with the colonel, commander," the judge stated and turned to Mac. "If that were an objection, I would have sustained it."

"Objection," she stated.

"Sustained."

Harm looked back at his client. He was still given no leeway. "How long has Love been in your command, commander?"

"Three years," she stated.

"When did his tardiness … sorry absences and insubordination become a problem?"

"I'm sorry?" she asked.

"Was he always late … missing in action as it were … did he always treat you with disrespect?"

"It was about six months ago," she answered.

"What happened six months ago?"

"Lt. Love's tour was up … he was notified that he would be retained 24 hours before he was to depart."

"How did that come down?" Harm tossed over his shoulder keeping his eyes fixed on Love.

"I am sorry?" she shifted her position. "I don't understand the question."

"Did you have anything to do with Lt. Love's retention orders?"

She looked worried. "My CO asked me for my recommendations about the men and women in my unit and I gave honest evaluations about all of them."

"You know Lt. Morris Johnson?"

"Yes."

"Lt. Johnson was just released … that was what? Three weeks ago?"

"He had a family crisis at home and he had already stayed a full extra tour."

"Love was just starting his third tour … was he not?"

"I believe that is correct."

"Were you also aware that Lt. Love was married six months ago ---."

"Your honor," Lt. Love jumped up. "I would like to request another attorney."

Harm was not impressed and Mac was confused.

The judge looked shocked. "Now?"

"Yes sir," he squared his shoulders. "It is my right, isn't it?

"Usually we like to have some reasoning … some rationale."

"I do not believe that Commander Rabb has my best interest at heart. By his own admission, he got my case less than 24 hours ago … we have only had one conversation."

"Commander?" the judge looked at him.

"Both those things are true – however, I believe that I not only have the Lieutenant's best interest at heart, but also the Navy's."

"Would you care to explain that?" the Judge asked.

"I am not at liberty to do so in open court, your honor," Harm stated. "In fact Lt. Love has not given me authorization to discuss all extenuating circumstances in this case."

"You were doing an end run around your client?" The judge was not impressed. "That is a chargable offense," the judge looked at the members. "Thank you for your time. This trial is concluded until new council can be secured," he looked up at Harm. "I will see you in my chambers at 1500 to discuss this further. You will not speak to anyone about this case, do you understand Mr. Rabb?" he banged his gavel.

Lt. Love glared at Harm. Harm was unimpressed.

"I warned you." Love pressed.

"It is not the first time I have been screwed by Love, Lieutenant." Harm scoffed. "And you may think bending over and taking it like a man is honorable …" He glanced at Mac. "I think it's a pain in the ass."

Harm grabbed his briefcase and strode out of the room. Mac was shocked … by all of it.

X X X X X X X

Harm was on his way to the admiral's office, he needed to get there before the Judge had a chance to read him the riot act.

"Harm," Mac called to him.

"Kinda busy now, Colonel … need to see if I can save my career."

"What in the hell were you thinking?" she asked.

"I was thinking that I couldn't sit by and see another man get screwed for loving the wrong woman."

"Excuse me?"

"I am not at liberty to say … but you should have discussed this case with me before you set a trial date."

"I was not railroading your client," she defended. "It seemed pretty cut and dry."

"Things always seem cut and dry to you because you never look beyond the surface," he leaned in and lowered his voice. "There is a lot more gray area in the world than you would ever care to admit. Things aren't always as they seem and just because someone accepts the cards they are dealt, doesn't mean that it is right or that they like it."

"Are you sure you aren't confusing two different situations, commander?"

"I am very clear," he glared at her.

"GET ME COMMANDER RABB!" came the bellow from the admiral's office to no one in particular.

Harm closed his eyes and shook his head. He missed his opportunity to be heard first. He turned to walk away, but Mac stopped him.

"One more thing, Harm," her anger was rising to match his. "You need to get off your high self-righteous horse and come down to earth and live with the rest of us mortals. Just because people – just because I make decisions - doesn't mean that I don't have to live with them."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I know all about gray area … and about NOT liking the cards that are dealt. And I have INTIMATE knowledge of the injustices suffered by loving the wrong man," her eyes welled up. "That is life and sometimes life sucks and we are all just suckers for holding out hope that it will change," she shoved the brown paper bag into his stomach and marched off.

Harm looked in the bag. It contained his wallet, his watch and a sock. "Sucker," he said to himself.

X X X X X X X

Later that day Harm heard that Lt Love had changed his plea to guilty was given a dishonorable discharge and lost all pay and benefits. It was a deal that Bud and Mac had worked out.

"At least I don't have to go to jail," Lt. Love said from Harm's door.

"There is that, Lt.," he confirmed.

"I want you to know that I won't press charges, and that I know you were doing what you thought was right to help me."

"It was your trial to lose, I should have accepted the parameters that you set," he laughed to himself. "Never been good with coloring between the lines."

"No sir," he stepped in. "I have heard that about you."

"Oh?"

"Yes sir," he shrugged. "Both Lt. Roberts and Col. MacKenzie have nothing but he highest respect and admiration for your passion for justice even if it does make you step outside the lines."

Harm shrugged. "Justice was not served in this case."

"I know you think that I lost … that someone got away with something, but honestly sir, I have gotten everything I wanted. I am out of the Navy, I can go home to my beautiful forgiving wife and share the experience of the birth of our first child even if that means I have to dig ditches for the rest of my life."

"Congratulations," Harm was clearly not impressed with Lt. Love's "victory."

"Nothing else is more important that the people you love," he stated philosophically. "A job –a career – even the knowledge that you saved the world or your own little piece of it can't compare to loving your family and doing right by them."

"Commander Leonardo?" Harm submitted.

Lt. Love looked suitably shamed. "She may have been the senior … but you and I both know that in matters of the heart, no one out ranks the other … she thought it was more than it was and I did nothing to correct her impression," he looked down. "I was wrong. I hurt her. I have to take responsibility for that. There was no way that she would ever accept my apology – and maybe she shouldn't – but she didn't need to lose her career over it. I was more at fault than she was."

"You are more generous than I am. She changed your shift times so that you would be UA. She took your car keys so that you would miss the movement. And I won't even get into the insubordination crap."

"You know what they say about a woman scorned sir," he smiled slightly. "Besides … I provoked most of the insubordination and I could have called a cab. I was just as petty and spiteful – if not more so – than she ever was," he nodded. "No sir. This was my bad," he looked up at Harm. "Justice **was** served."

X X X X X X X

Harm had been given a five-day suspension without pay and there would be a hearing when he got back. The charges had been dropped, but the admiral refused to let Harm get away with something again. It was close to 1930 when he heard a knock on his door. He assumed that he and Mac weren't done talking, but he thought that it would be a phone call the next day and by then he would be out of town, out of reach and by time they saw each other again he might have a new perspective.

He looked through the peephole. "Not tonight, Mac," he called. "I have a headache."

She ignored him and knocked again.

He opened the door and stepped back to allow her to enter.

She walked passed him and turned to face him. "I'm sorry, Harm."

"Accepted, good night."

"Again, you don't want to know what I am sorry for?"

"With so MUCH to be sorry for … can I ask exactly what you are apologizing for?"

"You did try to contact me about Lt. Love's case and I didn't respond," she was suitable sorry. "I was angry, I was hurt and I was jealous."

"Jealous?" he looked confused.

"Tessa?"

He almost laughed. "You are joking, right?"

"Why would I be joking?" she shrugged. "You were dating."

"I had an obligatory dinner set up by Turner to take a friend of his girl friend's out to welcome her to town. Turner and Varese were supposed to be there … you should have come along."

Mac didn't accept that.

"I wouldn't have had to if I could have told him that I was involved with someone else," he told her. "But I was not permitted to."

"This is not all my fault Harm."

"I am still not sure what THIS is … but there is fault on both sides."

"Jesus, Harm," she ran her hand through her hair. "Why is every little thing so difficult with you?"

"Not everything," he smiled lustily figuring that he would just get the night's activities moving along and they could stop the discussion that was sure to leave them in a worse place. "Some things are as hard as they should be."

"Don't do that," she snapped. "Don't make light … don't make sex jokes," she stood tall.

They were silent for a moment

"Who is the idiot that thought falling into bed would be the answer to all our troubles?" Mac asked.

"Not me … in fact I knew that when we crossed that line we were just opening up a whole new stack of issues."

"No walking off into the sunset for us, huh?" she asked rhetorically.

"Would you want that?" he asked. "Simple, neat … a fairy tale ending?"

"No … but … Is this really all there is … work and sex … is that really all you want … all you have ever wanted?"

"All I ever wanted?" he mused and walked passed her to the kitchen. "Honest to God Mac when we were running around the Arizona desert chasing your uncle down … you in that sun dress … all that heat … all that sweat … you daring me to make a move on you so you could shut me down … yeah … I wanted to you … I wanted to lay you out in the back of that truck and remind you what being a woman was all about … make you forget all that damned marine training … make you lose control."

"Harm!" she blushed though she didn't know why. He had said and done far more explicit things to her in the recent past – VERY recent past.

"You asked," he shook his head. "But something else happened in that desert."

"Oh?"

"I discovered that I liked you."

"Huh?"

"Oh sure … it was an adolescent like in the beginning."

"Junior High School!" she stated.

"Exactly like that," he smiled. "I loved teasing you … goading you … making you react rather than think and respond."

She shook their early past away. "Harm that is ancient history."

"Not that ancient."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means I still need to goad you to get a reaction."

"And you are Mr. Open Book."

"Point taken," he sat down. "Ya know what is interesting," he keep talking not waiting for her response. "The only time I don't need to goad you, the only time I don't misunderstand what you think or want or need … from me or otherwise is when we are in court or in bed."

"What?"

"You have no problem in the getting your needs across and more often than not getting them met in court or in bed. Why can't you everywhere else?" he asked the pointed question. "Why can't you with me? And don't say it is because you can be in control, because I have seen you out of control in both."

"It's not that simple Harm."

"It has to be."

"You can't make someone love you," she blurted out.

"I love you," he stated as if it were obvious and that her first argument didn't hold water.

"You can't make someone want a future that they don't want."

"I want a future," he said.

"Since when?" she stated.

"Can't put a date on it … and you can't tell me that you didn't know."

"You never told me," she accused.

"I didn't think it was allowed … well … I… it didn't seem to fit with the rest of the rules that we were operating by and before that you would have laughed me into next Tuesday."

"And you are placing that on me," she stated.

"You have had more demands in this thing than I have had," he stated.

"I am not the big bad bitch in this … this … this THING we have," she nearly lost it. "And the fact that you have no demands at all makes me wonder just how engaged you are."

"I have made no demands?" he wouldn't own that.

"Who is the one who makes the first move? Who is the one who 'comes by' after days of separation? Who is the one that thinks about and tries to protect both our careers? Is that you?" she fumed. "No … I am the one who cares enough to not let our private life interfere with our public life …"

"But I want it to."

"I am the one who is responsible enough to … what?" It had finally registered what he had said.

"I don't care who knows Mac … I really don't. I would tell anyone that asks that you and I are together," he shrugged.

"Excuse me? You don't talk to me at work about ANYTHING other than work. You make sure that we are never seen together outside of work. You won't let me keep a toothbrush here or a change of clothes. You won't even throw your condoms away at my house. "

"I thought that was the way you wanted it," he defended. "I'm not embarrassed."

"You think I am?"

He chose his words as carefully as he could. "I think that you don't want to explain to people that you can love me and not like me – at times."

"I never said I didn't like you."

"I infuriate you," he stated proudly.

"OFTEN," she shouted but with very little force behind it.

"My point."

"What do I care what people think?" she tossed away without giving it full consideration. "Forget I said that."

"Consider it forgotten."

'Wait … wait … wait … let's get one thing straight," she stopped the discussion. "Are you HAPPY with the way things are?"

He shrugged. "No … not really … not so much," he hedged. "But I don't want to lose it."

"Why not?" she asked directly. "What are you unhappy about and what do you really think we are going to lose?"

"You," he stated simply. "Us … the life we could have together."

She was blown away. "You think fucking me in the dark of night and ignoring me in the light of day will get you "us and the life we could have together'?" she was appalled.

"No," he sincerely didn't believe that. "But it was closer than we were two months ago."

"I think it just got us on the wrong path."

"What?"

"Sex," she couldn't believe she had to say it out loud. "It was a mistake. We never should have allowed it to happen once let alone start down this seamy, sordid, tawdry path."

"I disagree," he submitted. "I think that putting sex into the relationship allowed us to work through some NONVERBAL issues."

"Don't be crude," she was not happy.

"Hear me out," he continued. "Sex allowed us to be together … working toward a common goal (if you will) and our mouths didn't get in the way … figuratively our mouths didn't get in the way … we didn't over analyze it or beat it to death. It was – for all intents and purposes – non-verbal communication," he smiled proudly like he had discovered sliced bread or Cheezwhiz. "I like you better now than I did. I respect you now more than I did. Maybe I even love you more than I did. But it is not all I want … but it is what I can get for now."

She was left looking for the proper response. She snorted a laugh. "Damn you amaze me."

"How so?" he stepped toward her.

"When I was driving over here I thought the best I could hope for was to get you to agree to take our relationship out of the bedroom and put it back in the dining room or on the running path. I thought that I would honestly have to say … I want my friend back, and if I have to give up the sex to do that – so be it."

"Sarah?" he was a little confused.

"I would have been happy if I left here with a dinner invitation or plans to see a movie this weekend."

"And what did you get?" he smiled.

"Everything I had ever hoped for," she burst out.

"Really?"

"Pretty damn close … and that is saying something for us."

He shook his head. "No … not enough," he stood up straight and tall. "Sarah, would you have dinner with me tonight, possibly tomorrow night and probably every night there after – for the next 20 or 30 years?"

"Dinner tonight is great," she smiled. "And probably tomorrow … and every night there after for the next 20 or 30 years … well I will need to check my calendar … but I can tentatively say … it is a very real a possibility."

They kissed, for the first time in a very long time they kissed with no expectation of taking it to bed.

"Good," he leaned back. "I am off for the next few days … was going to head out of town … up to a place I know in the mountains … hiking, fishing and a water fall that is pristine and a favorite place for the Gods … I don't know if there is a movie theater, but we could bring a DVD," he smiled. "Would you care to join me … at least for the next couple of days?"

"I'd like that," she smiled. "I'd like that very much," she got a sly look in her eye. "In fact I am due for some time off … I can move some cases around and … if it would be alright with you … I would like to spend the week."

"All right with me?" he reached for her. "I can think of nothing better," he kissed her softly on the lips. "Well maybe one or two things," he grinned. "What will you tell JAG?"

She thought for a moment. "Not that they need to know … but if anyone asks … we are going out of town."

He seemed pleased with that answer. "So … dinner?" he wrapped his arm around her.

"Dinner," she picked up her purse. "Something light and easy … I want to be in bed early tonight."

"Oh Yeah?" he cocked his eyebrow. "I can get behind that."

"No, no," she smiled.

"No?"

"I need to get up early tomorrow … to pack."

"Oh … yeah … right," he scanned her more lovingly than lustily. "Pack light."

X X X X X X X


	5. Epilogue

Title: **Cold Light Of Day**

EPILOGUE

By: LizD

Spoilers: Mid-Season 8

Written: Summer 2006

**Disclaimers: No disrespect to JAG's cast, crew or creators. With love and thanks.**

Notes: The epilogue to COLD LIGHT OF DAY is a series of snippets in the life of Harm and Mac as the cold light of day hits them that take them to the end. In case you don't want to read about a life full of ups and downs that ends they way all things must, you may want to stick with the first two entries and BOW OUT – I won't be offended. In case you want to compare this to the epilogue for IN A GARDEN, I would really prefer you didn't. This Mac and Harm and that Mac and Harm are vastly different people – the only similarity between the two is that they loved each other (for good and bad) until the end of time. Please enjoy and thank you for reading. Comments welcome … encouraged … very much appreciated.

EPILOGUE

**x x x x Nothing But Time x x x x**

Mac woke as the sun crested the tree line with Harm tightly spooned up behind her. For the first time in her life she was truly content … happy even … convinced that her life was finally about to begin in earnest – actually it had already begun. He loved her. She loved him. Declarations were made (finally), promises were more than implied and a future was theirs for the making. "Hope" was the word of the day … the week … for the next 40+ years. She had to force herself NOT to rush to meet that future. It would be over too soon and she wanted to relish each moment. She might have been too over the top with her glee, but after all it was her honeymoon.

It was actually NOT her honeymoon – not literally. I had only been nine days since "the talk". Nine days since he invited her away with him – damning the JAG torpedoes and any other nay-sayers (including themselves). Nine days since the fucking stopped and the making love began. It was more honeymoon than most married couples ever knew – including them.

The Farley's cabin could not have been more perfect for a romantic get away. For nine days, they were quite literally the only people in the world – at least the only people they spoke to. The lines of communication were open (more like flood gates) – both verbal and non. The verbal was in new-lovers-ese; that is no topic was taboo, but nothing was argued, debated or talked through. No sides were drawn and any start of a disagreement was quickly squelched by a kiss, hug or over the top compliment. The non-verbal communication was more than sex. For the previous weeks there sexual encounters were more along the lines of illicit pornographic sexploits. Almost instantaneously it all changed. It was still physically satisfying, but more importantly it was emotionally rewarding. Raw sexuality morphed into sensuality with tenderness and intense intimacy. They often woke holding each other's hand. It wasn't "all good", but it was so much better than what they had – it was GREAT.

"Back to reality tomorrow," he whispered in a sleepy voice.

"This felt pretty real to me," she rolled over and curled into him.

"We could stay here forever," he pulled her tight and buried his face in her neck.

"I am ready to go back," she cooed. "I want to see what is next for us."

"Be careful what you wish for, Sarah," he pulled back to look at her.

"Ye of little faith …" She kissed him deeply and made him forget his brief moment of doubt.

**x x x x No Time Like The Present x x x x**

Harm met the dawn for the fifth straight morning. They were becoming good friends: dawn and he. It had only been a short time since he and Mac had gotten together – a mere four months (more or less) since that trip to the mountains, but he could no long sleep without her by his side even if it was just sleep. Work had again taken over as priority in both their lives; therefore the bedroom activities were often reserved for weekends or sporadic mornings. Not wholly unexpected and certainly not new for any couple. The honeymoon couldn't last forever.

The fight (not the first for Harm and Mac: the couple) was over something stupid and he wanted to apologize but a generic _mea culpa_ wouldn't work. She had made a big damn deal about keeping the lines of communication open as they "felt their way" in their new "relationship". So they would have to TALK through any disagreement – no matter how minor. For Harm, it really didn't matter if he were right or wrong any more, he missed her and he wanted them to make up but he didn't want to have to discuss it to death. All that did was turn something purely emotional into some OBJECT to be analyzed; it was so antiseptic, academic, rational. At least that was his excuse to avoid 'talking.'

What set her off this time was that he had referred to her as his 'girlfriend'. He didn't understand why, but she was acting like he said she was his dog. She stewed for hours, maybe even a day before she told him how upset she was. Court that day was insane; he felt like his was hit by a Mac Truck. The fight evolved into how he thinks about her, what he expects from her, where he sees the relationship going. BLAH --- BLAH --- bite me Dr. Phil --- BLAH. Mac was convinced that Harm was perfectly content with the way things were and had no intention of committing any further.

What the hell was he supposed to say to her? He knew what he wanted; he thought she did too. Why did it need to be said? Apparently it did. He had no idea what he was going to say … but he picked up the phone and called her.

No answer at her house. No worries. She might have forgotten to turn the ringer back on … of course she might have turned it off in case he called. She might still be really "upset". He called her cell. He knew that would be on and that she would always pick it up. She did on the third ring.

"Significant other … life partner … lover … friend … colleague … mother of my children … " He said simply. "Wife."

Silence came from the other end of the phone.

"Sarah … are you there?"

"Yes," she croaked out.

"Yes what? … You are there or you heard me?"

"Both."

"I just asked you to marry me," he stated.

"Did you?" she answered. "I didn't hear a question mark."

He rolled his eyes grateful that she wasn't standing in front of him to see. "Sarah MacKenzie … will you marry me?"

Nothing.

"Will you allow me to …"

A quick knock came on his door and then it opened. She was there with the phone to her ear. Her eyes were wet with joy. Clearly she had been on her way to see him before he called.

"Ask me again," she pulled the phone away.

He walked over to her and actually knelt down on one knee. "Marry me? Allow me to share your life. Raise our children. To grow old with you. To know that we will meet each challenge together – now and in the future."

"Yes," she knelt down next to him. "Work will have to change."

"I can deal," Harm pulled her into a tight embrace wondering if he had just played his highest trump card too early.

**x x x x x The Times They Are A Changing x x x x x**

Mac's eyes opened when she heard the water turn on. His morning routine had begun. She rolled her eyes and smiled. This was what she signed on for – hell, not eight days prior she signed a lifetime contract. She had no reason to expect that it would change that morning – the first morning back to work or at any point in the future. There was no reason to expect that it would change on its own, but she could certain throw a wrench into it on occasion.

She slipped from bed when she heard the shower go on, leaving her bathrobe on the floor and stole into the bathroom.

Harm shrieked like a schoolgirl when she joined him in the shower. "Hey … you will wake my wife," he laughed trying to recover some of his machismo.

"Got news for you, husband … she's awake."

"I can see that …" He groaned. "That is a precision instrument you are playing with there, Mrs. Rabb."

"The name is MacKenzie," she grinned. "And this ain't that precise."

"Whatever … don't talk … hey … oh damn … I'm a very lucky man."

"Yes you are."

"Shhh … don't talk …ow … oh … yeah … don't stop."

The water ran cold before the soap was out of his hair.

**x x x x x Time Marches On x x x x x**

Mac groaned when she heard the song whispered into her ear.

"_Happy birthday to you … happy birthday day to you … Happy Birthday dear -"_

"Stop," she sat up in bed with only the early morning dawn lighting the room. "Stop."

"I can do the Beatles too," he announced proudly. "_You say it's your birthday … well it's my birthday too, yeah_."

"Harm," she tried to pull away from him to get out of bed.

"Sarah … Sarah … Mac," he grabbed her hand. "Where are you going?"

"To check on the baby," she dismissed.

He pulled her back down. "He is fine. I just checked on him."

"Harm I hate making a fuss over something stupid like a birthday … OK? I told you that … so let's just ignore it."

"Can't do that," he announced. "We have dinner plans … Harriet and Bud are taking care of the baby overnight… and we are going to have a very nice evening – very ADULT evening … just the two of us … like we haven't had in over a year."

"That is sweet … but …"

"And yes … there will be birthday cake," he confirmed.

"Harm."

"Is this because you are 40?"

She winced but did not acknowledge the truth of that.

"Lady … you are the HOTTEST woman I have ever known … and you look better today than you did when I first met you," he let his hand glide over her almost flat stomach that nearly killed her to get back. "And you are only seven months from cranking out our first baby."

"First? … Last and only." She stated with a little more pathos then she had intended.

"Don't count on that," he kissed her. She did not respond as he hoped she would. Clearly she was more upset than he had originally thought. It would take some considered talking and a lot of listening to get her over the 40 hump. Or maybe not. "Open your present."

"Harm," she protested.

He leaned over her and grabbed a box from under the bed.

She tore off the wrapping to reveal a Victoria Secret's box. "Harm," she scolded as she pulled out several skimpy, lacy, black items that would take a PhD and illustrated instructions to figure out how to strap on.

"Is this … are these for you or for me?" she shook her head.

"You wear these, lady … and you will know that 40 is just a number," he picked one of the items up and held it aloft. "You are as young as you feel," he caressed her. "And trust me … you don't feel a day over 29," he kissed her.

She decided to let him think he was responding to her issue. What the hell, he was doing what he could.

**x x x x Time and Tide Wait for No Man, Woman or Family x x x x x**

Harm saw the dawn cresting the hill outside the hospital window. It had been a very long 36 hours – 18 in labor and another 12 worried about Mac (they had a difficult time stopping the bleeding). And the last six hours he spent going back and forth between her room and where they were keeping his daughter. There was no sleep for him; he looked like hell and had a coffee buzz to beat the band.

The light of day brought him hope. They rolled his daughter into Mac's room and he was allowed to hold her. She was quite possibly the most exquisite thing he had ever seen in his life. Everyone says babies are beautiful but most of the time they are just being polite. Newborns particularly are squished, red and pretty funny looking. Not Zoey Rabb. She was perfect. She was beautiful. She was long and lean and very active for a newborn. She fit into the crook of his arm perfectly and she loved being held by her father. The nurses even commented that she was a pretty fussy baby, but when he held her, she was an angel.

"Harm?" Mac moaned from bed. She was still hooked to an IV and the doctors said that she would have to stay for at least another 24 hours.

"We're here," he said gently as he came close.

"Is she alright?" she asked. Trying to get a look at her daughter.

"She is perfect," he nestled her into Mac's free arm. "Quite possibly the most beautiful female I have ever known."

Mac looked up at him. "You are going to spoil her rotten aren't you?"

He grinned proudly. "Daddy's little girl … and God help anyone who tries to mess with her."

"I think you have a few years before you need to worry about that."

"No harm in being prepared, setting the stage …you know … ground rules."

She smiled. "How's Trey?"

"He wanted us to trade her in for a boy, but said we could keep her if we took care of her and would bring home a brother next time."

Mac groaned. "Next time?"

Harm looked worried. He had very nearly lost her this time, lost his wife. He was not ready to go through that again.

"What are the doctor's saying?"

"Rest, fluids, something about red meat and iron and at least another day here," he tried to look confident and pretend like it was fine.

"How are you?"

"Tired … but very … very …"

"Relieved?" she offered.

His face melted into a soft smile that he saved only for her. "I love you, Sarah. Don't ever want to lose you," he stated honestly.

"Can't get rid of me that easily," she took his hand.

"Thank you," he sat down next to her. "Thank you for her … for our son … for our life," he kissed her.

"Harm … you know I love you … so don't take this wrong … but … go brush your teeth."

"Nice … very nice …" He got up to use the bathroom. "Ya know … you could use a MINT yourself, dear."

**x x x x x Time Flies When You Are Having Fun x x x x x**

Harm lay prone with just a sheet covering him. "Will you hurry up?" he called.

Mac came in from the hall holding a bottle of something and a washcloth. "Big baby," she announced. "Your kids are not as whiney as you are."

"It has been driving me crazy all night," he shuffled his position. "I think it spread."

"Should I tie your hands to the bed post?"

"Normally I would like nothing better but not today."

"What's the matter Harm … got an itch that you need scratched?"

"Would you please just get this over with?"

Mac pulled back the sheet and could not hide her amusement at what she saw. "Damn … that looks bad," she laughed.

"Not really what you should say to a man --- particularly your husband when looking at his crotch."

"Does it itch?" she gently patted the area.

"MAC."

"Fine … fine," she pulled some of the lotion from the bottle and started to apply it. "It should have a cooling effect almost instantly … stop the itch … whoa, whoa … stand down there, sailor," she laughed again.

"How the hell does he know that this is not foreplay?" he twitched it at her. "Normally you never give him any attention unless you want something."

"Jesus Harm … you are like the ever-ready bunny."

"Are you through?"

"You aren't - clearly."

"Mine turn … lie down," he moved over.

"I did it myself," she told him rubbing her backside.

"What if it spread?" he took the bottle and the cloth from her.

"Fine," she took off her robe and lay face down on the bed.

"What a shame," he announced. "Such a perfect ass and to be covered with poison ivy."

"Yeah … well next time you get a wild hair on a picnic … you are just gonna have to …"

"Hey … you're the marine … trained in jungle warfare … not a lot of poisonous plants at sea," he rolled her over to inspect her front.

"Harm … that is not fair," she twitched as he was dabbing lotion around her chest. "You are enjoying this too much."

"Can't enjoy this TOO much," he grinned. "Always wanted to be a doctor."

"Harm."

"I don't think we are contagious any more," he whispered seductively in her ear.

"Think again buddy boy … you are not coming near me with that thing," she pulled away from him. "And keep your hands to yourself … that is how this whole thing got started."

**x x x x x x Does Anybody Know What Time It Is? x x x x x**

Mac walked into the living room slightly before dawn. The kids would be up in an hour (thank God they could sleep through anything). Harm eyes were still closed, but she knew he wasn't sleeping. He could never actually sleep on the couch, which meant he hadn't really slept in three days.

"How long is this going to go on?" she asked coldly.

"Until you explain yourself," he said without opening his eyes.

"Harm … in this case I don't think a good OFFENSE while make a good defense."

"Take your own advice, Mac," he looked up at her. "And I don't need an offense or a defense. I did nothing wrong."

She knew he was mad at he when he called her 'Mac'. "Yet you are in no hurry to make me see the error of my ways," she threw back at him as if that were a good point.

"Mac …" He sat up. "You accused me of sleeping with another woman … you accused me of breaking our marriage vows and destroying our family."

"I said I was wrong … I apologized for leaping to the wrong conclusion."

"My point is …" He stood up to fold up the blanket before the kids got up. "My point is that you ASSUMED that I did it until you reluctantly allowed me to rebut what it was you THOUGHT you saw … so that means you expect that I will … or you are having ideas yourself."

"That is not what it means," she announced.

"OH?" he turned to her. "After three kids, twelve years of marriage and ten years before that … you don't know me better than that?"

"Maybe it is not about you," she blurted out.

"Are you telling me that you are unhappy with our life?" he ran a hand through his bed couch head. "Or just your life?"

"No," she stood firm. "That is not what I am saying."

"Then what …Mac?"

"Maybe it was about her … she is young and beautiful … sexy and blonde."

"And stupid as a stump … young enough to be my daughter … and I am her commanding officer … so not only would I throw away a marriage and family on a piece of ass … but I would flush my career down the toilet too … I am glad you think so highly of me."

"That is not what I am saying."

"Then you better start talking … cause I am at a total loss."

"I don't know what to say," she was in tears.

"Neither do I," he walked out.

"_Mommy_," their youngest one called from his bedroom. "_My throat hurts_."

x x x x Time After Time x x x x

Harm had stayed at the hospital all night eating ice cream: doctor's orders. Of course that was for his son, but Harm would never ask his child to do something that he wouldn't do himself. Mac had gone home after she was sure that Andy was going to be OK to take care of the other two kids. They were still not talking but through it all they put on a unified front.

Mac came in to the waiting room to see all the discarded ice cream wrappers. She would normally have made a comment about his rapidly expanding figure but she didn't feel that it was appropriate or would have been received well. He hadn't really slept in four nights – three on the couch and one in the hospital.

"Hi," she handed him some coffee.

"Thank you," he took a tentative sip.

"Is Andy OK?"

"Fine … sleeping … they won't let me sit with him," he leaned back and rubbed his eyes.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"Shoot," he looked over at her.

"I'm sorry … this whole thing was my fault … my issues … I need to go back to work … I mean back to work fulltime," she took a breath and forged on. "The advocacy council is rewarding, but not enough. I don't give it enough time to really get in there and get my hands dirty. I need to go back to work fulltime – maybe not there, but somewhere."

"Fine," he stated simply.

"We could certainly use the money, the kids toys are getting a lot more expensive as well as their clothes and college is just around the corner."

"You're right," he agreed.

"That's it?"

"Mac whatever it takes to make you happy," he was still clearly unhappy.

"It would mean sharing the parenting duties more … like picking up and dropping off … maybe even a few breakfasts and dinners."

"I know," he stated. "I can handle it."

"I thought you would be more … I don't know … old school about the wife staying home and taking care of the kids."

"That was always your call, Mac," he leaned forward. "Always your call. Have I enjoyed knowing that you will be around when I leave for work and come home – yes. Have I taken advantage of the fact that you handle the breakfast, lunch and dinner for me and the kids as well as all the housework – you bet your sweet ass. Am I above throwing a load of laundry in or packing a lunch before I go to work in the morning – absolutely not."

"Really?"

"Really."

"It is just that I feel that I need something that is mine that I can excel at."

"There are a lot of things you excel at Mac … and your work was always one of them," he shrugged. "I support you 100 percent."

She spied him suspiciously. "Yet you are still mad at me."

He looked away. "It still bothers me that you would leap to that severe a conclusion about me without even giving me the benefit of the doubt and asking a question."

"I am sorry … I do trust you Harm … I know you would never do anything that would jeopardize our life or your career."

He looked uncomfortable.

"What?"

"I am loathe to admit this … but in the interest of honesty and to set the record straight … that little blonde piece of fluff is very sexy and she flirts with me relentlessly."

Mac smiled. "She flirts with you? … how cute … she has a crush."

"Three days ago she was a home-wrecker and you wanted to scratch her eyes out and cut my balls off," he accused. "And now you think it is cute?"

"I did," she grinned. "And remember that in case her flirting gives you any ideas."

"You're out of your mind," he looked at her askance. "If I had you would have divorced me and taken away our kids, but now you are just jealous?"

"It's nice to know that you aren't dead … that a pretty girl can turn your head," she glared at him. "As long as that is all that is turned."

He just shook his head.

"And I never would have taken your kids away," she told him. "I would have given you joint custody … we would have kept the house for the kids … no alimony."

"I don't want to talk about this … I don't want to discuss a divorce settlement that I don't ever intend on using."

"So you will never divorce me … there is nothing I could do … nothing that would force you to kick my ass to the curb?"

"There are a few things that might … but I don't think we should explore them either."

"But you wouldn't want to end it if I was … I don't know … brutally honest – for your own good."

"Where is this going?" he asked tentatively.

"You really need to lay off the ice cream and chips," she patted his expanded stomach. "The younger girls may not find it as sexy as I do," she grinned. "Or course you will always be that man that ran around the Arizona desert to me – no matter what you ACTUALLY look like."

He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. "You calling me FAT?"

"I am just saying that a few more minutes on the stair master everyday wouldn't kill you, nor would a salad."

"Thought you liked being on top," he kissed her again.

**x x x x x - Hammer Time – x x x x x**

"I don't know which one of you is more excited," Mac commented when Harm came out of the shower. The dawn was not over the horizon yet.

"Me either."

"Let me just say one thing," she put forth.

"Again?"

"Hey … I have a right," she threw at him.

"You do."

"Two of the people I love most in the world will be with you today … you better get down safely."

"We will be fine."

She nodded. She had to believe that. "Are you more excited to fly, fly with your son or that your son is interested in flying."

Harm shrugged. "Can't say."

"Well don't get your hopes up, the last time he was in a Ferris Wheel he threw up all over everyone."

"Mac … he was five."

"Still."

"You are not going to ruin this for me," he scolded.

"For you?" she laughed. "I thought this was for Trey."

He pulled his towel off and 'waved' at her before tossing the towel at her. "Just for that, I am keeping THIS to myself."

"Get over her FLYBOY … lemme give you a reason to land safely."

Harm grinned from ear to ear.

**x x x x x - Long Time No See – x x x x x**

"Harm, come to bed," Mac called.

"It will be dawn in less than an hour … where the hell is she?"

"You know where she is," Mac told him.

"I know where I was and what I was doing on prom night … and if she is doing anything like that I am going to kill that boy."

"THAT BOY is Jimmy Roberts …you will not kill him … nor will you hurt him in anyway … nor will you accuse her of doing anything wrong."

"How can you be so calm?"

"We have taught her everything we know. We have talked to her about sex and taking precautions. At some point we have to let her make her own decisions."

"Make her own mistakes," he corrected.

"That too."

Harm spied the pictures they had taken of Zoey before she left. "Did you see what she was wearing … NOT wearing?"

"She was beautiful."

"Yeah … well … she got her mothers looks as well as her mother's big ti ---."

"Harm," she cut him off.

"I'm just saying … she doesn't look 17."

"Come to bed," Mac ordered again.

Harm complied but clearly he was not going to sleep. "I don't know how you can be so calm."

"Cause I know something you don't know … or have conveniently forgotten."

"That is."

"She doesn't like Jimmy Roberts," Mac curled into him seductively. "She thinks he is arrogant, rude and so full of himself that she is surprised that his head can fit through a door."

"Yet she went to the prom with him," Harm reminded her.

"So?"

"There was a time when you thought I was arrogant, rude and so full of myself --."

"Who says I have stopped thinking that?" she laughed

"My point, dear wife is look at where you are and think about where she is," he raised his eyebrows suggestively. "A fine line between love and hate."

Mac was out of bed like a shot looking out the window. "I'm calling her right now."

**x x x x x Marking Time x x x x x**

The phone rang at quarter to five in the morning. Not something a parent wants to hear.

Harm answered. "Hello … yes it is …" The disgust in his voice was thick. "Where? … What for yes … yes … ok … thank you," he hung up, rolled away from Mac and looked out the window.

"Andy?" she asked knowing what the answer was."

"Drunk driving … at least he didn't kill anyone or wreck another car."

Mac started to get up. "I'll go."

Harm grabbed her hand. "He can wait," he said sternly. "He needs to sober up anyway."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Gonna have a little one-on-one intervention with the boy," he grumbled.

"What does that mean?"

"It means he will go back to rehab … and he will get into recovery."

"Or what?" she asked.

"There is no other choice Mac … not for him," he stated simply.

"It's not that simple."

"Didn't think it would be," he pulled himself out of bed.

She called to him. "This is his third arrest."

"In the last year." Harm reminded her. He didn't need to remind her about all the trouble they had throughout high school before he had gotten his license, nor the total number of inpatient and outpatient rehab programs they had tried that clearly didn't stick.

"My point is the rehab doesn't seem to be working," she was a mother with a plan.

"Two out of three," he stood in the doorway wiping his hand implying that his first two children were better than his last.

Mac's eyes flared. "Tell me you didn't just say that," she spit at him. "He is your son."

"Yes he is," Harm confirmed. "I'm sorry," Harm eased the tension in his shoulders. "I am scared for him Sarah. And I don't know how to help him."

"I know."

"I will do everything in my power to keep him out of jail, but he is not making it any easier," Harm mumbled something under his breath.

"Excuse me!"

"I said … neither are you," he shouted.

"Jail is not the answer Harm," she started the debate once again.

"I agree with you, but the state of Virginia doesn't," he came over and sat down on the bed. "What about the Corps? It did a lot of good for you. I could convince a judge."

Mac shook her head not at the idea of Andy enlisting in the marines, but at the idea that she and her son were too much alike. She felt responsible as if Andy had inherited this disease from her.

"Don't go there, Sarah … I mean it," he warned her. "This is not YOUR fault. This is not MY fault or OUR fault."

She was near in tears. "You don't believe this is a disease."

"I believe that Andy had issues … it's can't be easy growing up with a pair of siblings like Trey and Zoey," he said as if he had given it a great deal of thought and actually had spoken to a therapist about it (which he had, but Mac didn't know that). "He's an artist … creative … a free spirit. Coming into a house with you and I as his parents and Trey as an older brother --."

"Trey and Andy love each other."

"They haven't spoken in over a year … literally haven't spoken."

"You barely speak to him," she reminded him.

"Or could it be that he barely speaks to me," he corrected. "Look, I am not saying that I am Father Knows Best … and it is true that Andy and I have always had a difficult time finding something to talk about – but don't paint this as some disappointed father disowning his screwed-up child."

"The marines will … will …"

"Beat the creativity right out of him, I know," he agreed. "On the other hand it might teach him some discipline that will help him focus that creativity on something productive."

Mac didn't think that would happen.

"Mac he can do anything he wants in life … he just needs to get this one thing under control."

"How are you going to convince him to go?" she asked.

"I'm not," he stood up and reached his hand out to her. "We are."

**x x x x x Time On Your Hands x x x x x**

Mac refused to open her eyes. She didn't want to face the day. The house was quiet … deadly quiet. Andy had gone to boot camp day before and she quite literally had an empty nest. Harm had been looking forward to the EMPTY NEST for twenty-five years. They were in their sixties and retirement from jobs and from raising children officially started that morning.

He climbed back into bed with her. She could smell the coffee and the cinnamon toast he had made. There were probably strawberries and cream too.

"Morning," he snuggled into her.

"Morning," she said a little sadly.

"Have a surprise for you."

"Oh?"

"We have Farley's cabin for the next three weeks," he told her.

"We do?" she opened her eyes. "I am not sure I can make that hike to the falls any more."

"Baby … you're in great shape," he kissed her.

"You too … you can't afford to lose any more weight," she told him.

"I'm at my fighting weight," he slapped his soft flat stomach. "The same as when I went to flight school."

"When do we leave?" she asked.

"After breakfast," he buried his face in her neck and started kissing her sweet spots.

"Harm, did you take …?" she asked.

"Yep," he confirmed as he trailed kisses down her neck.

"When?" she asked again.

"About an hour ago," he rolled her on to her back so he could admire her as he unbuttoned her pajama top.

"You think we will leave after breakfast, do you?" she laughed.

"Maybe lunch."

"Did you clear this with your doctor?" she asked.

"He's the one who gave me the prescription," he grinned. "Told me to have fun."

"Enough for three weeks?" she giggled.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"Just want to know what to pack," she said slipping out of her top.

"Pack light."

**x x x x x A Stitch In Time Saves Nine x x x x x**

Mac padded into the bedroom to retrieve something from the bathroom. She held a bridal veil aloft hoping not to get it caught on anything or step on it.

"Sarah," Harm rolled over and groaned. "Have you been up all night?"

"Busy … busy … busy," she stated with her caffeine buzz.

"Baby, come to bed … you need your rest," he patted the mattress next to him.

"My only daughter is getting married in three days … this wedding will be PERFECT," she snapped as if his suggestion for sleep was a slight on all that she had been doing.

"It will be … but you won't know it if you sleep through it."

"I'll sleep when it is over."

"Well then … Zoey had nothing to worry about," he rolled over knowing full well that he planted enough of a seed to get her to stop and ask the question.

"What does that mean?" she tossed over her shoulder as she hung the veil on the curtain rod.

"It means that the only thing in the world that could RUIN her wedding has been eliminated."

"Harm … what are you talking about?"

He rolled back over to look at her and shook his head sadly. "The only thing to ruin Zoey's wedding (other than her choice of groom) is being upstaged by her mother … which would have been a lock since her mother is the most stunning woman in the world … but since you will have circles under your eyes down to your knees and snoring through the vows … there is nothing to worry about."

Mac could barely follow his remark. "I am sure there is some version of a Rabb compliment in there … but I don't want to hear it," she wiped her face. "If you aren't part of the solution you are part of the problem … and right now I have enough problems."

"Tell me," he coaxed.

She chose to humor him but it was also a way for her to make mental lists of what needed to be done. "Caterer?" she listed.

"Taken care of."

"Excuse me."

"Already on it … as well as the florist … and the transportation … and the boys are handling the seating arrangements. What else?"

"You have no idea what we ordered or anything."

"Zoey already passed it off to me," he repeated. "What else?"

"I don't know … the tuxes?"

"Picked up and delivered to the groomsmen."

"When did you get so involved in this mess?" she demanded to know.

"When my wife turned into MacArthur," he laughed. "Jesus Mac the invasion of Baghdad didn't require this much preparation."

He sat down on the bed and let out a sigh. "I want it to be perfect for her."

He pulled her down to him and rubbed her back. "What happens at weddings?"

She shook her head.

"The only thing that is important at the wedding is that the bride and groom make a promise to love, honor and respect their partner until the end of time … the rest of it is icing."

"There is a lot more to it than that."

"Not much … look at our wedding … a justice of the piece after work on a Friday …"

"In uniform," she recounted. "And awful Chinese food with our friends."

"I loved that day … I loved that we saved all our energy for the Honeymoon – and I am not just talking about the honeymoon nights … we had a great time tramping around the Sierras."

"You and I are different."

"Not that different," he kissed her forehead. "Mark loves Zoey … Zoey loves Mark … end of story … get some rest," he ordered.

"If I can get you to sleep for a couple of hours, I am a genius."

"I am too wound up to sleep," she started to pull away.

"I can help with that too," he kissed her.

**x x x x x Time Heals All Wounds x x x x x**

Harm groaned as he got out of bed. He couldn't sleep passed dawn anymore. He moved slowly toward the bathroom as if he had been beaten with a two-by-four.

"Showing your age there, Harm."

"Those children are monsters."

"Are you talking about your grandbabies?"

"Babies?" he raised his brow. "Were there eight or twelve of them?"

"Three," she corrected.

"That Zach is a handful," Harm called from the bathroom. "Too much of his father in him."

"He's two … all two year olds are handfuls," Mac confirmed. "Zoey is a good mother."

"She had a good role model," he leaned into the room and smiled at her.

"Do you know that I still don't know how to take a compliment from you," Mac barbed back.

"Oh?" he came back to bed. "You seem to like them … as much as I dish out."

"Yeah … well … It still unnerves me at times."

"You think I am being lest than earnest."

"I think sometimes you lay it on with a shovel, when a trowel would do … and it is usually when you want something."

He pulled her into an embrace and lay back on the bed. "Not this morning, beautiful. Those hellions took everything I had. Gonna take me days to recover."

"Andy is great with Tony," she snuggled into him.

"Yes he is."

"You don't like Shelia much, do you?"

"Shelia is fine … she seems very good for Andy … I am sorry she has a decade on him and I am sorry that Andy has taken on the load of five-year-old right out of the box … but … they aren't married yet … so who knows if it will last … but he seems happy … I guess … he still doesn't talk to me much."

"Are you going to the Trey's bachelor party?"

Harm grinned. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Don't you dare!" She warned.

"I didn't plan it … but I know what happens when a pilot gets married," he chuckled to himself. "You bet your sweet ass I will be there."

"Harm."

"The bride is ok with it … hell I hear she has some BIG plans of her own for her bachelorette party … so get over it."

"I am not sure what IT you are referring to … just don't hurt yourself, huh?"

"No need, dear," he grinned. "I just plan on sitting there … enjoying the … entertainment."

"NO LAP DANCING," she gently punched him in the ribs, which netted her a groan and an evil laugh.

**x x x x Time Will Tell x x x x x**

Mac hadn't slept all night. She didn't leave the bed, but she didn't sleep. Harm had his first good night in over a year – she didn't leave the bed any one of those nights either in fear that he might wake and need her.

That night she had watched him while he slept. He was a mere shadow of man she met lo those many years ago in the rose garden at the White House. He was gaunt and pale. It killed her the first time she noticed that the light had gone out of his eyes. It was the chemo. He didn't take it well … no one does. But he had been so strong and so healthy his whole life, she never thought that a silent killer like cancer would take hold of him.

He had been off for a while and they just got news from the doctor the day before that he appeared to be cancer free. They would need to screen every four to six months. But for the moment he was healthy and regaining health every day.

What she had focused on that night was the very real fact of their mortality. Not just his, but hers as well. Harm was 79 and she was 75. They weren't going to live forever. But she didn't know how she could live without him – even for a little while. She tried not to dwell on it – but Mac was a dweller particularly in the middle of the night.

The phone rang and woke Harm up even though Mac caught it on the first ring. She smiled brightly and handed the phone over to him.

"Hello … hey Trey … that is great news … how big? … mother is doing fine? … baby? Ten fingers, toes … you what? … " Harm appeared speechless. "Thank you. … We will be down a little later to see you all. Kiss Lacey for us … and # IV," he hung up and handed the phone to Mac. "Great news, huh?"

"You seem surprised," she took the phone from him.

"About?"

"That they named him after you."

"Technically they named him after my father … but yeah, I guess I am surprised. Trey hates the name 'Harmon'."

"I don't think it is about liking the name as much as it is loving the man," she kissed his cheek.

He looked at her for a long moment and stroked her cheek. "I am thinking that that is the nicest thing you have ever said to me," he pulled her to him and kissed her softly.

She curled into him and let her fears from the night fade in the light. "I am sure I said something nicer," she smiled.

"Well there was that one time when you said that I could give lessons on bringing a woman to multiple org--."

"I did not say give lessons … I just said that …" She laughed. "Egomaniac!"

"And you love it."

"I love you."

He pushed her over on to her back and loomed over her. "Wanna see if I still got it?" he wagged his brows at her.

"Not a doubt in my mind," she kissed him. "But if you feel you need to prove something, who am I to say no?"

**x x x x x Time And Time Again x x x x x**

Harm stood watching the cold light of day crest the distant mountains. The view from the master bedroom from Farley's cabin would always be his favorite next to the view from the fantail of a carrier. He could relive his life in those hills, and that was what he was doing that morning. Not his whole life, just his life with Sarah. It was her eighth birthday, the kids and grandkids would be arriving that day and the house would be full of people and noise – joy and laughing. They had a good life. He felt that the last five years had been a gift. A gift he used wisely and cherished ever day.

Mac slipped up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. "Morning."

He turned to pull her into an embrace. "Morning," he kissed the top of her head. "Happy Birthday."

"You know I don't like a fuss made," she gently scolded him.

"You love it and you know it," he reminded her. "Your kids around you, your grandchildren under foot. You'll be on cloud nine."

They fell silent watching the dawn.

"What is going on, Harm?" she asked scared to hear the answer.

"I was just thinking how lucky a man I really am."

"Oh?"

"Could have been killed a hundred times or more in my first 40 years and then to have you in my life for that last 40+ is a reward that I never deserved."

"There you go, shoveling it on with a shovel again," she turned to him. "Talk to me."

"I wouldn't trade a day," he looked at her earnestly.

"Not one?"

"Nope … the good, the bad, the ups, the downs …" he grinned. "The ins, the outs."

"Harm," she smiled.

"I am saying that we may have had trouble getting together and being together was not always smooth sailing, but I was never worried that … I mean I always knew that we … what I am trying to say …"

"I know what you are trying to say …"

"What I am trying to say …"

"I know … I feel it … felt it … too," she smiled sadly at him. "What are trying NOT to say?"

He nodded. She knew him too well. "Not today, today is your birthday."

"It's too late Harm … now I will stew all day thinking the worst."

He turned her to face him. "I really wanted this weekend to be special."

"It is," she helped him. "Your test came back positive, didn't it?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

Tears were dripping down her eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I wanted to wait to tell you."

"I know … I appreciate that," she wiped at her tears. "So …"

"So … I don't want to go through that chemo / radiation treatment again," he said bluntly. "I think that would kill me."

She shook her head. The cancer would surely kill him.

"Sarah … I don't want to be sick. I want to be as healthy as I can for as long as I can."

"I know," she nodded.

"I love you," he said simply.

"Take me back to bed," she ordered letting her tears fall. "I need you to hold me for a little while."

"Lady, I will hold you forever … don't for get that."

"Never," she smiled weakly knowing that forever had a deadline. "I love you."

**x x x x x Time's Up x x x x x**

Trey, Zoey and Andy all stood in Harm and Mac's bedroom. The funeral was long since over and all the paper work had been done. They had been putting off the inevitable until they could all be there together.

They had lost their father six weeks prior (he had finally lost his battle with cancer – the only battle he ever really lost), and it was a surprise to none of them when their mother went peacefully in her sleep. She refused to allow any of them to move in even for a time, nor would she agree to move in with them. They thought she would change her mind in time and she might have if her heart wasn't so broken without her husband of 41 years.

They each took a corner of the room and started cleaning it out. There were people that they could hire to do this and friends who had offered, but the Rabb children needed to do this for themselves.

"I feel like we are going to get in trouble for being in here," Zoey broke the ice.

"Yeah … Dad did get pretty hot when he caught us in here," Andy recalled.

"He was teaching us about respecting other people's privacy," Zoey claimed.

The boys laughed. "Are you kidding?"

"He wanted to make sure that we didn't come in when they were screwing."

Zoey made a face. "I don't want to think about it," she turned away.

"They had a healthier sex life than the three of us combined," Andy claimed. "Right up until the end."

Trey looked at the headboard. "Remember when he moved the bed so it wouldn't knock up against the wall."

Andy laughed. "Right … what did he say … Mom wanted to protect the paint."

"Oh yeah," Zoey laughed. "We could draw on the walls of the living room with indelible ink, but she was worried about the paint behind the head board."

"They thought we were young and stupid," Andy claimed.

"They didn't want to discuss sex with their kids … particularly THEIR sex."

"Remember that talk we got from Dad?" Andy nodded to Trey. "All that bullshit about respecting your partner."

"I took that to mean he was trying to tell us we shouldn't finish first," Trey laughed.

"OK OK … enough with the sex talk," Zoey shut them down.

"OH I don't know about that," Andy pulled a box out from the back of the closet and showed it to Trey.

"Dad you dog," Trey laughed pulling out the MAKING WAVES DVD.

"Lemme see," Zoey ordered. "Oh god … Mom … I am scarred for life," she laughed. "Get rid of that before one of the kids finds it and asks what it is."

"Good idea," Andy held something up. "Cause I am not sure I know what this is."

"ANDY," Zoey scolded. "Beside this room was more of their sanctuary … it wasn't just about … them …"

"You can't say it can you?" Trey laughed.

"I just don't want to get a visual … OK? They are our parents for God sake."

"So we know that did it at least three times," Andy offered.

"Stop," Zoey said. "I admired their … I don't know … intimacy. They way they held hands in public or how Dad would always open the door for Mom … even when they were royally pissed with each other."

"Yeah … well … I always thought they got into those fights so they could make up."

"Make up sex is the best."

Zoey tried to ignore her brothers. "AND … They actually talked to each other … Mark and I never talk … not like they did."

"Maybe after 40 years of marriage," Trey offered.

"No," Andy said. "I remember them talking a lot from the time I was little … it is probably my first memory is of them talking near me … boy oh boy could those two debate a topic … I am sure these walls could tell any number of stories … I am sure that I was a topic of conversation in here more than twice."

"We all were," Trey consoled.

"Perfect Trey?" Andy jabbed at him. "Mr. Follow In Daddy's Footsteps?"

Zoey intervened. "Andy … Dad loved you."

"Yeah."

"I'm serious," she forced.

"Don't worry about is Zoe … this is just my shit," he sat down on the bed. "Dad and I reconciled before he died. We had some really great talks," Andy nearly broke down. "He told me he was proud of me," he did let some tears fall. "I wish I could believe that."

Trey and Zoey sat down next to him. "He wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it," Trey said.

"Yeah … I just … I don't know … I wanted more time with him," he let his brother console him.

Zoey looked around the room. "Something is different."

The boys looked at her like she was crazy. Mom and Dad are gone … is that different enough?

"I mean … really different."

"Like what?"

"I don't know … something is missing … where is that trunk … box … whatever… you know that captain's letter thing."

"The captain's secretary?" They boys looked around. "What was in it?"

"All of their letters over the years."

"You think mom burned them so we couldn't read them?"

"No," Zoey got up to look around. She found it in a corner near the bed. Clearly Mac had been rereading them.

"Should we read them?" Trey asked.

Andy shook his head. "I think Dad would get really pissed at that."

"They were private that is for sure … but we are their children."

"What if you find something out about them that you didn't want to know?"

"It won't make me love them less … it would just give me a better idea of who they were."

"I think it is a bad idea," Andy said. "I want to remember them … Mom especially as she was to me … a loving and devoted wife and mother with the stamina to go toe to toe with anyone of us and who would got to bat for any one of us."

"She was a spitfire," Zoey broke down. "I miss her."

At that moment H4 came crying into the room and up to his father. "What is wrong little man?" The father asked.

"Zach said that Nana and Grampa are dead and in heaven and we will never see them again."

Precocious Zach stood shamed in the doorway and Zoey motioned for him to join her.

Trey sat down with his son on his lap. "We talked about this," he said gently. "And what did we decide?"

The little boy wiped at his eyes. "We said that as long as we love them … they will never truly be gone."

"And how long are you going to love Nana and Grampa?"

The little boy smiled brightly and opened his arms as wide as he could. "THIS LONG, Daddy. Times infinity."

"That's a long time," he kissed his son's head and held him close.

The Rabb children made eye contact. No one would be reading their private letters. Harm and Mac gave so much of themselves to the people they loved, whatever was left over for each other should be respected and admired. They were a true love story.

**x x x x My Time Here is DONE … **

Thanks for playing along


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